I will Always Love You
by Kittendragon
Summary: Edmund/Peter. This is SLASH. Don't like, don't read. Edmund tried to protect Peter from the harm of the real world, but can he save Peter from the damage that he, himself, causes with his distance? T for Now.
1. Standing

"I will Always Love You"

Chapter One

The rain fell in heavy sheets on the London Bridge where Peter stood, making the Tames look like a rolling river of mist. The streets were mostly cleared of traffic due to the war curfew, and the eldest Pevensie stood alone on what would have been one of the city's busiest thoroughfares during peacetime. He had avoided being spotted by the travelling military vehicles and mounted police, and his hard-earned solitude was a blessing. He liked the calming sound of the rain, and paid no heed to his drenched clothing.

Peter had spent his day walking. London was still recovering from the Blitz two years prior, and Peter toured the city in hopes of finding something to lift his spirits. His search had been fruitless. After his second and final return from Narnia, all joy had swiftly fled from Peter's life. Susan and Lucy had returned to their own boarding school, miles away from Peter's boarding school, and as the year had progressed the reality of his own return's finality had weighed heavily on Peter's heart.

Peter had dealt with his frustrations of no longer being a king, and he took the childish treatment of those around him in stride. He had realized that the fighting couldn't accomplish anything but causing more hurt, and everyday life no longer affected him. No, it was the thought of losing his Narnian friends, his forced separation from Aslan, and the strained relationships with his siblings that hurt Peter so much. Of course Peter's relationship with Lucy had stayed strong as ever, but he could see Susan drifting away and the pain of her _denying_ _**Narnia**_ had left such a wound in Peter's heart that he feared would never again be filled. And Edmund…

_Edmund_.

Even the simple thought his _name_ was a painful spike to Peter's heart.

'_How _could_ he!?'_

It was like a painful cry in Peter's mind. He could never think of his dark brother as a traitor or betrayer, not after the two events with the White Witch, but he couldn't think of any other words to describe what Edmund had done to him, to the girls, to Aslan and Narnia. Peter had thought that, after their second trip to Narnia, things would improve for all of the Pevensie children. He should have known better the moment he saw Susan off on the train platform. His worst nightmares had been realized, and Peter hadn't had any warning to help him stave off the invisible attack.

During their first trip to Narnia, the Pevensies had been closer than any other set of siblings. They had ruled and served side by side, watching out for and loving each other with everything in them. When Susan had come of age and suitors had started knocking at Cair Paravel's gates, it was to Peter and Edmund that she turned to for counsel and protection. Here in England, Susan couldn't stand it when Peter asked her about a suitor or tried to warn her against a young man he didn't approve of. It was to Peter that the younger Pevensies had gone to for almost everything, from bruised knees and hurt pride to matters of State in Narnia, but in England (save Lucy) it was a different story. And to make matters worse Peter's relationship with Edmund, which had been infinitely closer than the ones that the boys had shared with their sisters, was almost none existent now.

Yes, Peter and Edmund had been lovers. Edmund had been Peter's staying hand when the high king started to rise in anger, and Peter had been Edmund's joy when negotiations had started to pull the just king down. Edmund was his calm and he was Edmund's excitement, the sun to Edmund's moon…or so Peter had thought.

They had been blissfully married for three years when the wardrobe had dumped them back into the Professor's spare room in the country. Though he was just as shocked as the rest that they had been returned their previous ages, he was sure that little would change between his siblings and himself. This thought had been true for him and the girls, but with Edmund it had been a rapid decline of attention and affection. Edmund had become as cold and silent as his former Narnian captor, only returning to his former self when Peter became violent and needed saving.

When they had returned to Narnia for the second (last, in Peter's case) time, Peter had been at once ecstatic. Rushing to the sea and _playing_ had been fantastic. He had splashed Edmund, and had been gifted with the just king's sorely-missed laughter. When Peter had seen a feint but familiar smirk on Ed's face he had wanted to simply sweep the dark king up in his arms and never put him down again. Then Ed had asked that horrible question.

"_Where do you suppose we are?"_

That one question had led them on an adventure that was much darker than any of the siblings could have fathomed on their own. But it wasn't fair for Peter to blame Edmund's curiosity for ruining the return trip. No, Peter had always known Edmund to be a bit curious…it was something that he actually valued in the younger boy. It was Edmund's treatment of him whether they were alone or among others. Though he acted much like the king he had once been and still was, the one bad habit that remained was his willful denial of their marriage. No matter how many times Peter tried to confront Ed, it was not until after the White Witch incident that Edmund had truly realized how much his denial was destroying and corrupting Peter.

--

_Edmund stormed back into the chamber where he had just defeated the White Witch when he was sure that only Peter remained._

"_What the HELL were you thinking!?"_

_Peter did not answer him, but instead stared at the floor with his shoulders slumped and his sword barely dangling in his hand. Edmund would have none of it and closed the distance between himself and Peter, gripping the elder Pevensie's shoulders and shaking them. Peter flopped like a ragdoll, and Edmund growled in frustration._

"_Look at me!" Edmund seethed, trying to catch Peter's gaze. Peter proceeded to slowly shake his head in different directions to avoid Edmund's eyes as the just king tried to move his own head to catch Peter. Edmund growled again and gave Peter another quick shake._

"_What did she offer you?" Peter continued to try and twist away. "What did she offer you!? Curses Peter, if you don't answer me so help me, Aslan, I'll..!"_

_And then he caught Peter's gaze, and with it his own breath. The pain and agony, guilt and accusation in Peter's eyes were answer enough. Edmund stood, shocked, before gathering himself and voicing his conclusion._

"_Me. She offered you me, didn't she?" Peter's face flushed with shame and he dropped his gaze from Edmund's once again. "Oh, Peter."_

_Edmund tried to pull Peter into an embrace, but the elder king struggled against his hold, sobbing and vocally denying the contact._

"_No. No! Let me be! You don't want me! You don't want me." Peter sobbed as Edmund overpowered him and drew him to his chest. Edmund felt his own long-overdue tears well up and spill over his lids. He knew that he would never have been able to overpower Peter if the High King hadn't been so distraught. It distressed him to think how weak Peter had become in his grief and shame. He shushed his king, and began his apology._

"_Hush, Peter. Hush, my love. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I do want you. I always have and I always will," Peter tried to protest, but Edmund gently charged on. "I turned away from you in England because we will never be accepted there. People would tear us apart, literally, if they knew about what we have. I don't care what they do to me, but I can't bear the thought of someone else even laying a hand on you. I was trying to protect you, but then you had to go and get into fights on your own. Why couldn't you just see reason? They'll destroy you, my king."_

_Peter turned his gaze to Edmund's again, now angry. "And what about here? You still deny me in the place of our marriage! How could you!?You speak of how others will destroy me, but what about you? How can you say you'll always want me when you refuse to touch me, even in Narnia!? Some days I think I might start hat…"_

"_Don't!" Edmund barked. "Don't you ever say that. Not to me. I couldn't bear it."_

"_You__ couldn't bear it!? What about what __I__ can't bear? What about my l-l-love for you? I can't bear this love for you if you just cast it aside like so much t—t—t-trash" He could barely get the word out in his frustration and anger. Edmund sucked in a breath through his teeth, realizing the damage he had inflicted on his Peter. _

"_Yes," Peter growled at him, "She offered me you. She promised me that you'd truly __love__ me again, and that you would __never__ deny our love or our __marriage__. She said you'd hold me like you used to if I let her win this war. She told me that I couldn't get you back alone, but that she had the power to give you back to me. She promised me a lifetime of forever with you, just like you promised me in our vows. She knew our __vows__ Ed. She recited them to me in my head. I could almost hear yo…" And then Peter lost it, and could speak no more for a very long time._

_Edmund stood shell shocked and holding Peter to him as if he were the last tie Edmund had to any world._

"_Aslan," He murmured into Peter's ear at last. "I really made a mess of things, didn't I?" _

_He rubbed Peter's arms, and turned the blonde's chin to face him._

"_I will make this right, my love. I promise you." He brought his lips to up Peter's trembling ones, and sealed the promise with a kiss. "Come with me, my love…my husband."_

--

Edmund made love to Peter for the first time in a year that afternoon, reciting and renewing his vows word-for-word to his beautiful, blonde husband. It hadn't been perfect, and Edmund had spent a good half an hour just trying to get Peter to let the Just King near enough to him emotionally to _make love_ in the first place. Peter hadn't trusted him at first, but his heart had overruled his head in the end. Later, after Edmund had fallen into a nap, Peter found himself back at the stone table. He had asked himself what had happened to him in the last year that had made him try so hard to prove that he was still the king he had been, and why his faith in Aslan had wavered for that dangerous moment before Edmund had killed the witch.

He had veered away from the obvious and immediate answer. It hadn't _all_ been Edmund's fault, and Ed hadn't been the one to lower his sword to the White Witch.

Regardless, Peter had decided in that moment that he would close his heart and count his marriage as a loss. Edmund may have recited his vows, but Peter's knowledge of this "new" Edmund argued that his husband's promises would not follow them back to England.

The two kings of Olde hadn't had another moment alone after that afternoon and before they knew it, Miraz was dead, the Telmarines had been defeated, and Caspian was king. Edmund had been so mad about Peter's challenge to Miraz, but Peter had made sure that they were never alone before Edmund went to present the challenge. Edmund had done his duty and respected his husband's right as high king to issue the challenge, and had stood at Peter's right hand during the duel. In Peter's moment of weakness he had come through and believed in Peter as he had in the Golden Age, which made Peter smile and his heart clench painfully for a quick moment before he reentered the duel.

When all was done, Peter and Susan had engaged in their final conversation with Aslan in Narnia. He confirmed Peter's fear that he would not be returning to Narnia, and had urged Susan and Peter to look for him in their own world. After Susan had departed to say goodbye to some of her favorite places in Narnia, Peter had asked for another few moments with Aslan.

----

"_Aslan, may I speak with you?" Peter asked as he and the Lion watched Susan depart._

_Aslan turned his ancient eyes to the high king, and Peter could see a sorrow and an understanding in them that made his heart hurt and his own blue eyes prick._

"_You may speak with me anytime, my dear one. What would you speak with me about?"_

"_Edmund." The word had come before Peter had even organized his thoughts. It was as if the word had been sitting on his lips for ages, just waiting for the right moment to spring into existence._

"_Ah, yes. Your beloved husband."_

"_Beloved to me, though I fear that I am no longer beloved to him."_

"_Why would you say such a sad thing, my king?"_

"_He doesn't want me anymore. He won't even look me in the eye in England, and here it took until…until…"_

"_Until your faith wavered for him to see you again?"_

_Peter wanted to duck his head in shame, but something in Aslan's eyes made him meet the Lion's gaze as he nodded._

"_I am sorry, my Lord." Peter murmured from the very depths of his heart._

"_You were forgiven the moment it happened, young one."_

_Peter gave Aslan a tremulous smile, which Aslan returned with one of his kindest smiles._

"_Was I wrong to marry him, Aslan?"_

"_No, Peter. Marrying your soul mate is never wrong, but you must remember that no love comes without trial. It was easier in Narnia when you were kings and the culture did not frown on you. Edmund's fears about England are not unfounded, and though he may not see the pain that he causes you, he couldn't handle the pain that others could inflict on you if they so choose. Edmund truly thinks he's protecting you from harm, but he doesn't remember that sometimes the pain of the heart is more powerful than that of the body."_

"_I would walk through the fires of Hell for him."_

"_You almost did, dear one." And for a moment Peter could very well see in Aslan's eyes what would have happened if he had freed Jadis, as well as what could have happened to Edmund on their first visit if Aslan hadn't intervened. The visions made him whimper, but soon they were gone and in their place was Aslan's paw on his shoulder. "Peace, Son of Adam. Your imagination works too well for you to think on such thinks. You cannot truly know what would have happened, so cast it from your thoughts."_

_Peter calmed, and then turned his thoughts back to the now. "What am I going to do?"_

"_You need to speak with him."_

"_But I have! He won't listen!"_

"_Peter you were, and still are regardless of your faults, a fantastic King. I made you High King for your qualities, and one of those qualities was solving conflicts and reasoning with your brother. You've tried reaching him in a passive aggressive way by starting fights (Yes, I know about those) with others and hoping he'll remember his place by your side when he comes to rescue you. You've tried to force him to tell you that you __don't__ have it sorted and that you need him by goading him into saying it, himself. You've tried to appeal to the judicious side of him that calls a liar on his lie, but you forget that he has always tried to be gentler with you than he ever was with any defendant or political delegate __because__ he is in love with you. He may deny it because of his desire to keep you safe from others, but he does love you and he tries to soften every blow that comes your way and save you from his own frustration and anger._

_You need to be direct with him. He has forgotten how to be a husband, but so have you. In your vows you promised to be honest and open with him, and only hinting at your frustrations with him is not being open. Confront him like the king I know you to be. __Talk__ to your husband!"_

---

Peter had thought on Aslan's words and had tried to take the Lion's advice the moment they returned to England, but Edmund had immediately rebuffed his efforts. He tried every strategy he could think of to get Edmund to talk with him, but Edmund had reiterated his wish to protect Peter, and had begged Peter to never speak on it again.

"Oh Aslan," Peter murmured to into the darkness, "How can I honor my vows when one half demands honesty, and the second half promises respect. How can I respect his wishes and still get my husband back? What do I do? I need a divine intervention. I need to be back in Narnia, where my husband wasn't so worried about what _others_ thought. Didn't we promise to forsake all others for each other?"

Peter paused to reflect on Edmund's most recent actions. When Peter had started to lose hope in his quest for Edmund's heart and hand, the girls had tried to intervene. Lucy had gone after Edmund adamantly, even going so far as to remind him that it had been Aslan himself that married the two in the first place.

"_Aslan said, 'What I have brought together, let no man or beast or being in any world tear asunder.'_ _That includes you, Edmund!"_

Having no solid argument beside the ones he had already voiced, Edmund simply shook his head and turned away.

"_Lu, you just don't understand. I'm sorry."_

Even Susan, who had been completely for returning to England and had gone as far as to start _forgetting_ Narnia, had chastised Edmund for his refusal to honor his wedding vows. The fight between the two darker haired siblings had been admittedly the shortest among the four of them.

"_Edmund! I gave you away! You asked me to give you to the one man you would ever love and cherish, and I said yes! Don't you remember how long it took you to convince me that a love like yours couldn't be wrong? You had to have Aslan come and speak with me five months before the wedding! Now you choose to deny something you fought so hard to gain?"_

"_Oh, so now Aslan exists, does he? That wedding wasn't just some game we thought up? Don't preach to me about vows taken and battles won, Su. At least I will never deny the existence of our home or our Lord."_

It had been a low blow, and the last time that Susan would ever speak of Narnia or Aslan. Peter at that moment both commended and loathed Edmund and his sharp-as-shards tongue. The words had needed to be said to her, but not in that way or at that time. Through his arguments, especially the final one with Susan, Edmund had separated himself from the rest of his siblings. Lucy, though she tried to forgive Edmund for his sharp words to Su, rarely spoke to him now. Susan was nothing but distant and polite to her younger brother, and Edmund acted as if he didn't notice the loss of his close relationship with the female Pevensies.

"And now, he's forsaken me."

As a final blow, Edmund had joined back up with his old crowd. He ran with a bunch of thugs who probably _would_ have hurt Peter if given half the chance. They were a jealous, cruel, drinking lot who thrived on injuring those better than them by ganging up on them in classes and back alleys. Edmund took no part in their violence, but used his clever mind in order to acquire their booze and other illegal forms of fun (Cigars and the like). He became their smuggler, and tried once to explain to Peter that it was better for him to be one of them than to fight against them when they finally came for Peter (for Peter was more talented, more intelligent, more _beautiful_ than any of those thugs could ever hope to be – and they hated him, but wouldn't touch the brother of their smuggling mastermind).

Peter curled his lip in disgust. This is what Edmund called protecting him from harm? Destroying his relationship with his sisters, denying his husband, and joining a group of thugs who _happened_ to dislike Peter?! Peter had picked a fair amount of his own fights and come out on top (with Edmund's help, of course)! What did Edmund think he was doing?

"Aslan, he's corrupting himself in my name and I can no longer stand by and watch it happen." Peter climbed up onto the bridge, standing on the massive stone 'rail'. He twisted the fingers of his right hand around his left ring finger.

Closing his eyes, he could almost feel the metal of his wedding band, which had gone missing when they had fallen back through the wardrobe. He could imagine the ring heating to his touch as he twisted the phantom band, and as he ran his fingers to the tip of his ring finger, he imagined the ring coming off to rest in his tightly clenched fist. Tears began to fall, unbidden, from his closed eyes as he curled his hand tighter around the mental ghost. With a last shuddering breath, Peter opened his eyes and wound his right arm back like a baseball pitcher.

"He doesn't want this marriage for the fear of what it will do to me? Well then, let me make this easier." Peter rose his voice to the rushing river bellow. "I hereby annul our marriage! Aslan, I did what you told me to do! I've honored my vows! Now let me have my heart back, and give myself to another who will actually _love me!_ EDMUND! TAKE BACK YOUR RING AND GIVE ME WHAT I DESERVE!"

And then, three things happened at once. Peter threw the ring with all his might out over the Themes, the rain picked up and blinded him mid-throw, and the forward momentum threw him off of his feet…

And into the water below.

He hit the water with a mighty splash that at once shocked and disoriented him. Peter began to fight the current, but his clothes made him too heavy and the rain made the current to swift for him to swim properly. He was sinking fast.

In his last moments, when all of the fight had almost deserted his limbs, Peter called out into the water.

"Oh Aslan! Please, not like this. "

And Peter's last thought, before his conscience fled from him, was of an older Edmund. He wore his scabbard at his side, and bore a silver crown.

"My Edmund."

And Peter knew no more.


	2. Falling

_Wretched._

The word resounded in Edmund's head as he returned to England from his third trip to Narnia.

_Wretched._

Edmund shook his head in disbelief. How could he have been so _blind_? So _foolish_? Aslan forgive him his trespasses.

_Wretched!_

With a new determination (that was really an old, and yet fast-returning feeling from his days as king), Edmund marched himself to where he was to meet the thugs he had been supplying for nigh on two years. Anyone who saw him moved back and away, not seeing a boy of sixteen, but a grown man with a regal air that was not to be trifled with. King Edmund was back…and he was righteously _angry._

As he walked, Edmund did not berate himself over much. If there was one thing he had learned in Narnia, it was that an apology was worthless if the following actions continued to repeat the transgression. He knew that Aslan would forgive him, had already forgiven him, but that did not mean that Edmund could blithely go on without changing his ways.

'Supplying thugs? Bah! How low. How wretched of me, to think I could prevent disaster by _supplying_ the threat?'

Edmund once again shook his head in disbelief. He had taken the coward's way out by avoiding the conflict with the thugs. He had forgotten that both he and Peter were more than capable of taking care of the whole _lot_ of them if they had come for either one of them! The moment that Peter had ever been truly at risk was the moment that Edmund had joined them and stopped standing at Peter's side.

It is rather had to watch someone's back when you aren't close enough to buffer an attack. Edmund realized now that if the thugs had decided to attack Peter he would have never known. He was so "close" to them that they would have been able to hide plans of malice from him.

Edmund could just imagine it now:

'_Oh Eddy boy, will you get us some of that fantastic scotch whiskey? We know you have to go all the way to the other side of London to get it, but it's sooo good. You'll get it, won't you Eddy boy?'_

And then when Edmund had gotten a good hour away with no fast route back they would strike, Peter would be taken unaware and unguarded, and Edmund would return to a grinning group of horrid bullies and a bloody and broken Peter. It made Edmund sick just thinking about it.

No way in _hell_ would Ed let that become a reality. Being back in Narnia, this time without Peter,

had given him a new perspective. Though he knew logically that no time was passing back in England, Edmund had been anxious about being in another place where he couldn't keep an eye out for Peter. He felt like he was leaving his _husband_ open to attack, and he hated every second of that anxiety (though of course he loved being in Narnia, and the Voyage of the _Dawn Treader_ had been fantastic, and wasn't Eustace so much easier to get along with now? Ed knew Peter would like that).

So, the moment Ed returned to England he made a vow to stop pretending and start getting his act together. Peter was his priority, the girls (for he knew he had wronged them, too) were his beloved family, and the thugs were his first line of business. He would deal with the thugs, apologize to the girls, and find Peter and make _sure _that his husband never had a reason to doubt his love ever again. Edmund thrilled at the idea of making love to the beautiful blond every day for the rest of his life. Bother the consequences, and screw society. Peter was his, and he would make damn sure those who needed to know it knew it, starting with himself and moving on to Peter.

---

When Edmund arrived at the meeting place (under the London Bridge, away from prying eyes) the thugs were already in full swing. They had a full case of wine sitting in the middle of their huddle, and the smoke trails from their cigars drifted up to the underside of the bridge like stale wood smoke. They were all damp around the ears from the rain, and most of them had shed their outer coats and placed them close to a makeshift barrel fire near the wine case.

"I'm done." Edmund wasted no time with formalities. He was here on a mission, and these _children_ were not worth his words. The tone of his voice left no mystery as to _what_ he was done with.

"Come on, Eddy boy" The leader said while the rest sat and tried to comprehend the change in Edmund. "You don't mean.."

But he never finished his thought. In a flash, Edmund had drawn himself to his full height, and in the place of a boy stood a king. The whole group jumped to their feet, but none of them were willing to challenge him.

"You're making a mistake. You forget that you've supplied us with things illegal for people our age, not to mention the things just downright illegal. We own you."

Edmund laughed.

"You own nothing. You can prove nothing. Go ahead. Tattle on me. You won't be able to trace a single bottle, a single cigar, a single morsel of opium to me. All you'll do by trying to catch me is reveal your sordid dealings. Don't trifle with me, boy. I am not your lackey."

And with that, the leader lost his cool. He lunged at Edmund, swinging a meaty fist at the brunette's face. He should have saved the effort. In less than four joined moves, Edmund had the bully on his belly, stunned and still with fright under Edmund's knee. The rest of the gang looked on, not even sure what had just happened, but not willing to risk their own necks against someone obviously stronger than even their strongest and "smartest".

"I'm only going to say this once, so listen carefully." Edmund matched gazes with every person in the group, even leaning down to catch the leader's eyes. His voice was calm and cold as ice, and his whispers sent shivers down their spines. "_Never_ come near me or mine again. I don't want to see your shadow darken my door, I don't want to feel you within a hundred miles of me or my siblings or my family, I don't _ever_ want to have to show you what I'm really capable of when I'm angry. There is a _reason_ I never joined your childish bullying games, and I assure you that none of you want to encounter that reason. Have I made myself absolutely clear?"

Edmund would let them think that the reason he hadn't joined them was that he was impossibly unstable and dangerous. He wouldn't correct their thinking and let them know that it was really against his sense of Justice and Morality. He felt that he had compromised his morals enough for them, and he had already asked and received Aslan's forgiveness.

Each boy nodded, and when Edmund let the leader up they scurried away from him, not daring to look back at a threat that was bigger than their group combined. Edmund knew they would never cross him. He dearly wished he had just issued that warning to begin with, instead of betraying his faith and his family trying to play the placating hero. He breathed deep as he watched them go, and let out all of his tension on the exhale when they passed from his sight.

He felt better. He felt cleansed. He felt like himself, again.

And then he heard the most horrible sound, the most horrible words, from the most beautiful voice in the world.

"I hereby annul our marriage!" Edmund sucked in a startled and terrified breath, and started looking around him. He knew that the voice was Peter's, he just couldn't _find_ the source.

"Aslan, I did what you told me to do! I've honored my vows! Now let me have my heart back, and give myself to another who will actually _love me!"_

Edmund stumbled out from under the bridge, frantically looking for the man who was breaking his heart and destroying his hope. This wasn't happening! He had to _stop Peter!_

"EDMUND!"

Edmund looked up, and saw Peter standing on the edge of the bridge railing. Horror overtook his senses. Peter was _too close to the edge_! He tried to catch his breath to yell up at Peter to 'be careful!', but the declarations had stolen his very voice. He could only move his jaw uselessly as he tried to gather his wits. He had to make this right!

"TAKE BACK YOUR RING AND GIVE ME WHAT I DESERVE!"

'NO!' Edmund's mind screamed as Peter requested the one thing of him that he would never be willing to give. He would grant Peter any wish, give him everything he deserved and wanted, but he would never take back his marriage. Till death do them part, and by Aslan, Edmund was going to love Peter and be his husband even beyond death and into Aslan's country!

He had said so in his vows!

And then 'till death do us part' tried to become Edmund's reality, as Peter threw something and promptly followed the object (Edmund never saw anything leave Peter's hand) into the dark waters below.

"Peter!" Edmund shouted, running to the river's edge.

He waited with baited breath, watching for any sign of his beloved, but the current was swift and Peter did not resurface. With a cry of wounded disbelief, Edmund threw off his shoes and jacket and plunged into the river after his husband, swimming swiftly with the current and searching frantically for his love.

He ducked under the water, only coming up for air when he could no longer stand it, keeping his eyes open and looking for any sign of life.

There!

A flash of blond caught his eye, and Edmund dived for it. Peter, beautiful Peter, was sinking to the bottom, his limbs drifting and his eyes open for a second before rolling back and shutting. Edmund thrust his hand out and grabbed Peter's wrist, yanking the other male to him and kicking with all of his might.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Edmund broke the surface of the water, and struggled back to shore with Peter in his arms. Peter was still a few inches taller than him, and the fight against the current and his dead weight was awkward and agonizing for Edmund.

He dragged himself and his husband up onto shore, and immediately started checking for signs of life.

"Peter! Come on, don't you dare, don't you DARE _leave me_!" Edmund hoisted Peter up and started pounding on the blonde's back. After three good pounds, Peter's body surged, and Peter came to with a heave. He coughed up what seemed to Ed to be liters of water, sputtering and crying and gagging. When he was done, he turned his shaking frame around in a dazed confusion.

"Ed?" He questioned, his eyes squinting from the rain and red from his tears. His voice was distant and wondering, as if he was almost speaking to himself. "Am I dead, Edmund? Is that why I see you here? You can have your heart back, you know. I'm ok now, I think. If I am, in fact, dead."

"Shut up!" Edmund cried, and pulled Peter into a crushing hug. "Just shut up! You're mine, you're mine, you're mine…" And Edmund rocked the dazed Peter back and forth, repeating a litany of "mine" and "love" and "forever" and "idiot" and "_Never AGAIN!"._ Peter let him, not exactly sure what was going on, and not sure how he felt about this "Edmund" who was acting as if Peter had been the one to rip his heart out, and not the other way around.

"Let me go," He deadpanned. "Don't touch me."

And at his emotionless request, Edmund leaned back and really _looked _at him.

"Your arms are still around me. You should remove them if you wish to keep them."

Peter tilted his head to the side, his eyes vacant and his voice far away and calm. Edmund stared, dumbfounded, at his love.

"N-n-no. No! Peter.." Edmund tried to pull Peter to him again. With a mighty shove, Peter disengaged himself from Edmund's embrace, and stood up. He glared down at Edmund with all the anger and hate that he usually reserved for an enemy of Narnia.

"I said RELEASE ME!"

And for long moments Edmund sat at the feet of High King Peter the Magnificent, staring up into angry and righteous eyes of a man who had won battles and saved nations. He was tried, he was weighed, and in one look from that awesome and powerful man, he was destroyed.

---

AN: I really tried to make this chapter happier than the last one. We all see how that turned out. *Snorts* Well, I do promise that there will be more. In fact, I don't usually do this, but here is a preview of the next chapter. Please keep reading… and for Goodness sake! REVIEW! I feel like I'm drifting in a sea of silence, here!

Thank you to those who have reviewed. You're the reason I keep writing, some days. :)

FastFuriousChick, that was the longest and most detailed review I think I've ever gotten. I dedicate this chapter to you, however sad it was. I promise that something will change. :)

PREVIEW:

"Get in the cab."

"If I had been happily sleeping in your bed, I wouldn't have been miserably standing on that bridge!"

"I don't want to hear another word out of you. Now get into the cab."

"You never want to hear a word out of…"

"PETER! Do NOT disobey me. Get. In. The. Cab. Now."


	3. Struggling

For long moments, the two former kings of the Golden Age of Narnia locked gazes in a frozen match. Edmund was shocked and speechless. How could he reply, or even begin to beg forgiveness from a man who was obviously not willing to come to his same level?

"Peter…" Edmund began, but then his voice died away. He truly didn't know what to say. He had never before had this much of a problem talking to Peter, not even…before Jadis. Edmund felt sick at the realization. Even in bitterness and anger, Edmund had always had something to say.

Peter stared hard at Edmund, and then turned on his heal in a regal motion and made to walk away. He did not get far.

Two steps from the Just King, Peter fell to his knees in a horrid fit of coughing. His hands braced out in front of him, and his whole body shook with the power of the wracking, hacking coughs that tried to expel what little water was still left in his lungs. He made gasping sounds between the fits of coughing, and honestly felt as if he was drowning on land with the amount of oxygen he was being deprived. His eyes bulged and then squeezed shut, tears once again running down his cheeks unbidden, and he started to panic involuntarily. If only he could _breathe!_

"Peter!" Edmund cried in alarm, rushing to his love's side and rubbing his back. "Calm, Peter. Calm, my love. Breathe, just breathe. There you go. You're ok. I have you."

"No," Peter moaned, trying to shrug Edmund off, but too weak from the coughing to do so. "No you don't. Let me be. Let me alone!"

With every struggle that Peter put up, Edmund found more and more of his patience leaving him. With a great growl of frustration Edmund yanked Peter to him and bound the blond up in his arms, chest to back.

"That's it!" He barked, his voice echoing across the river. "Damn it, Peter, I know that you're angry at me! But stop this struggling _right now! _What is Aslan's name were you _thinking!? _Standing on the _railing _of the _London __**Bridge**_! Have you lost _all _of your senses?"

"Me?! And what about you?" Peter croaked. "Supplying thugs." He spat, and was darkly satisfied when Edmund flinched against him. "Go on, then. Run back to your little friends. I'm not really that important to you, remember? Might as well have annulled our marriage while we were in Narnia that last time. I'm sure Aslan would have understood your reasoning. Go on. Shoo. Run on home, _Eddy boy."_

"Enough!"

"No, you _enough!_ Enough of your lying! Enough of your reasons! Why didn't you just let me drown!?"

Edmund gasped, and then a furry like he had scarcely known overtook him. He stood up, pulling Peter with him, and began marching back towards the bridge. Peter struggled at first, but Edmund tightened his grip on Peter's wrist until Peter let out a shocked whimper and started holding onto Edmund's hand with his free one. The High King was gone, and a scared boy was in his place.

"Where are we going?" He tried to demand, but it came out confused and a little frightened. Part of Edmund felt bad for frightening his husband (he refused to think of him as anything less than, no matter what Peter had said), but the vast majority of him was too furious for words. "Edmund, answer m.."

Peter's eyes widen and he stopped talking when Edmund stopped long enough to face him with a sharp glare, and then he let himself be drug along behind the Just King.

When Ed got to his jacket and shoes, he pushed Peter against the bridge and pinned him there with a glare. Leaving Peter for a moment, he redressed without ever looking away from the blond. When his shoes were back on, Edmund took Peter's wrist again (gentler, but no less firm) and led him to the street.

It early morning by this time, and though the sun wasn't up London was. Edmund stopped on the side of the road to try and hale a taxi, and while he waited he turned back to Peter.

"It's your fault, you know." Peter sniffed, still subtly trying to free his wrist. Edmund flared his nostrils and tightened his grip, and Peter stopped. He drew himself to his full height. "So what? Now you get to play righteous anger? That's not fair, and it's sure as Hell not just."

"We will talk about this later."

"No, we won't. You'll avoid me as soon as we're somewhere warm and 'safe', like you always do. You only deem to notice me when I'm in trouble."

"Not anymore."

"I don't believe you. You'll tell me not to talk about it. You'll tell me I 'don't understand'. You're right, I don't understand why my _husband_ wouldn't want to hug me, or look me in the eye for more than two seconds, or have a _conversation _with me…or Aslan forbid, _share his bed with me_!"

A cab finally pulled up to the curb. Edmund opened the door, and then guided Peter in front of him.

"Get in the cab."

"If I had been happily sleeping in your bed, I wouldn't have been miserably standing on that bridge!"

"I don't want to hear another word out of you. Now get into the cab."

"You never want to hear a word out of…"

"PETER! Do NOT disobey me. Get. In. The. Cab. Now."

Peter slid onto the seat, and then to the furthest side when Edmund climbed in next to him. Edmund once again took hold of his wrist. Peter wanted to tell him to stop, but he'd pick his battles in this war…his wrist was just a POW as far as he was concerned. He'd get it back when he won the argument, and he _knew_ he'd win.

"King's Cross, please." Edmund asked the driver.

The cabdriver gave them both a funny look, but pulled out and headed towards the destination. Who was he to question a job in wartime? He hoped these kids had some money.

The ride was rather swift without traffic, but it seemed to take ages for everyone in the automobile. The silence was thick, and the tension between the two youths made it that much worse. Neither king had ever been so happy to get out of a car before.

"Why are we here?" Peter asked, not really expecting an answer but demanding one, anyway.

"Stay." Edmund commanded, pushing Peter onto a bench. By this time, Peter was shaking with the cold and exhausted. He told himself that he stayed on the bench because he was too tired to get up, not because he was obeying Edmund.

Edmund returned a few minutes later with two tickets and a few long-distance travel blankets from the station vender.

"Come on," And Peter chalked up his following of Edmund to force of habit and curiosity. "Get on the train, and don't argue. Just do it. Now."

Peter stomped onto the train, and then followed Edmund to a private compartment towards the back. He wondered to himself why he didn't just bolt, but then Edmund shot him a glare as if he could hear his thoughts, and Peter knew why.

Once they were in the compartment, Edmund dropped the blankets and drew the shades on all of the windows. He approached Peter and began to remove his coat.

"What are you doing!?" Peter yelled, yanking his coat hem out of Edmund's grasp. "You lost that right _long_ ago."

"Peter, I'm not trying have sex with you!" Edmund snipped in exasperation. "You're soaking wet! I'm trying to prevent you from getting hypothermia!"

Peter stood with his coat clutched around his form, and for a moment felt like crying. _Of course_ Edmund wouldn't be trying to get him naked in order to take advantage of his spousal rights. Why would he, when he hadn't made love to Peter, hadn't really touched Peter, since Aslan's how? Aslan, Peter felt like a fool.

"Oh, bugger it!" Edmund had seen Peter's emotional reaction, and he knew that Peter had taken his words the completely wrong way. "Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"No," Peter said, shrugging out of his coat and reaching for a blanket. "You never mean anything. You hurt me all the time, but you don't _mean_ to. It's ok. I'm done with it. I'm done with you, and me, and us. Let's just shut up, yeah?"

"I left the gang." Edmund murmured. "Let me do that, you're going to get the blanket all wet if you don't strip down, Peter."

Peter stopped moving and allowed Edmund to undress him, looking away and trying not to think about the brunette's hands on him. "Why?"

"Because I realized that I was fueling the problem, not preventing it." He wrapped the blanket around Peter and sat him down, kneeling down in front of Peter and rubbing his limbs to try and stop Peter's shivering. "And Aslan helped me see the error of my ways. I should never have left your side."

"Aslan?"

"I went back to Narnia. I've only just returned to leave the gang and stop you from drowning, my love."

Peter stared into Edmund's earnest brown eyes, dumbfounded.

AN: Well, I wanted to make it longer, but I'm way too tired and I have class tomorrow. Bleh. I hope you enjoyed this, and please review! Again, thank you to those who did review, and thank you FastFuriousChick for the long reviews! I do have another Narnia fic out there, but I would suggest checking out my non-Narnia fics, too!:)

I'd give you a preview, but it would spoil the next chapter. ;)

… or maybe:

"…Are you going to slide between my thighs, again, and give me more empty promises?"

"If you were any other man talking about us that way I would have hit you."

Till Later!


	4. Crawling

Chapter 4

"You've been to Narnia?" Peter was not truly shocked, but it hurt to hear that someone had gone without him.

"Yes." Edmund tried to convey the truth through his eyes.

"And you left the gang?" That _was _shocking to Peter. What happened to all of Edmund's 'I'm doing this to protect you' speeches?

"Yes." Again, Edmund was firm and self-assured.

"You've been to Narnia, and you left the gang?"

"_Yes_, Peter. Why is this so hard to comprehend? I left the gang, for _good_, and I've just been to Narnia."

"I find that hard to believe." Peter said very matter-of-factly. He meant no offense, but why should a trip to Narnia make Edmund leave the gang? He hadn't changed after the last trip to Narnia. What was so different about this trip?

"I wouldn't _lie_ about Narnia, Pete." Edmund tried very hard to not let it show just how _offended_ Peter's disbelief made him feel. "And I did leave the gang."

"No, the old you wouldn't lie to me. But then again, the old Edmund would have annihilated the gang with one glance, not _joined _it. King Edmund the Just wouldn't have '_made love_'to me only to cast me aside." Peter twisted the words '_made love'_ to sound like a slur. Edmund felt his anger once again rising, but he held it in check. Let Peter test him, he would not falter in his quest for Peter's heart or his trust. "Tell me, dear _king_, are you going to slide between my thighs, again, and give me more empty promises?"

Peter scooted back, and he started to draw his legs up onto the seat, spreading them slowly with a cruel light in his eyes. The blanket continued to cover him, but his meaning was not lost on Edmund. '_Go on.' _His eyes said, with a cruel and broken smirk on his face. '_Treat me like the whore you must think I am, if you think I'm to fall for another broken vow._'

Edmund's nostrils once again flared, and he stood up just to get away from Peter and his hateful words and mocking actions. He refused to look away or back down. He knew that Peter was testing him at every turn, but to hear Peter speak of their intimacy in such a vulgar way angered

Edmund. Peter was speaking of himself as if he were a harlot and Edmund as if he was just a customer emptily promising the world to a one night stand. It disgusted him.

"If you were any other man talking about us that way I would have hit you."

"Do it. I dare you."

Edmund tossed his head back, but held firm.

"See, you can't. Unless it's 'life or death' in your eyes, you can't even raise a single finger in my direction. You can't bear to touch me." Peter knew he was taunting Edmund, but he didn't care. Let his words rile Edmund up! What good would it do in the end, anyway? "_Touch me._ I _dare_ you to. Come on."

And then all of the fight went out of Edmund. He knelt back down before Peter, and matched his brown eyes to watering blue.

"Peter," He murmured, opening his arms out but not touching Peter. "Stop it. You mean more to me than that. You mean the world to me. Forgive me my trespasses against you, my lord. Stop displaying yourself like that, and come rest in my arms. You are my beautiful husband. You are High King Peter, the Magnificent and I _love_ you more than life. Come to me, dear one."

Peter shrank back, holding the blanket closer to him, before making a few false starts and then finally lunging at Edmund. He tore at Edmund's clothes, and Edmund let him. Noises like that of a wounded animal escaped Peter's throat unconsciously, and the sounds tore at Edmund's heart, but he made no move to confine Peter. He knew that Peter needed to release his hurt and his rage, and soon enough words and cries of frustration were leaving the blonds' mouth. Tears streamed down Peter's face as he verbalized all of his hurt and anger and feelings of betrayal. He stripped Edmund down, sometimes stopping and just rocking in rage while he rubbed Edmund's thighs. His focus was solely on his task, and he never once made eye contact with the brunette.

When Edmund was fully naked, Peter stopped and simply stared at the man laid bare before him. Here they were, naked together, and Peter couldn't even remember what he was supposed to feel…and so he sat back, curling into a ball under the shuttered window, and he sobbed.

"Peter," Edmund murmured once again, and took a blanket to wrap around Peter.

Peter tried to refuse it, and wouldn't let Edmund comfort him. He had run out of words, but he didn't want to be wrapped up in the blanket again. Edmund understood.

He took the blanket, wrapped around his own shoulders, and then once again held his arms open to Peter.

"I won't force you to forgive me, and I'll understand if it takes you years to even look at me again…but, Peter, I still ask your forgiveness. From the very top to the very bottom of my heart, the very core of my being, I'm sorry. You are my husband, and I was wrong to ever try and protect you by distancing myself from you.

I won't make you anymore promises. Instead, all I can hope to do is _show_ you that I'll _never _deny you of my love. Ever again…I love you…I love you…I _love_ _**you.**_" And Edmund shuffled back to sit in the middle of the car, arms open and legs crossed just in case Peter wanted to sit in his lap.

Still crying silently and sniffling, Peter raised his gaze to meet Edmund's. Then, he slowly moved forward, crawling towards the open arms that he had wanted and dreamed about and _missed_ for two years. He matched Edmund's gaze until he was scant inches from Edmund, and when he found no lie in those deep brown eyes, he finally allowed himself to curl into Edmund's embrace.

Edmund wrapped his arms and the blanket around Peter, and began to cry. They buried their heads together and let the pent up emotions drain out to each other. Peter was shocked to feel Edmund's tears, and leaned back to wipe them away.

"I do love you," He whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"There is nothing for me to forgive. Just do me one favor?"

"What?"

"Could you please avoid standing on bridge railings?"

Peter laughed.

"Of course," And much later, when Edmund had thought that perhaps Peter was asleep. "Edmund?"

"Yes, love?"

"I forgive you… Just don't ever do that to me, again."

"I won't. I won't make a promise. Instead I give you my oath as King that I'll never deny our marriage, again."

---

AN: That was almost too sappy for me. They still have a long way to go, but now you know that they still desperately love each other. Everyone can sigh in relief…

For now.

As always, please review. The longer the reviews, the faster I post. Detailed reviews give me ideas for the next chapter's contents (though I have a basic outline in my head).

Preview:

"Edmund? What are we doing here?"

"I thought we could use a place where we can be ourselves."

"I don't think I can do this."


	5. Riding

The train rocked them gently, and soon both Peter and Edmund were sound asleep on the compartment floor. Edmund had wrapped them both in the many traveling blankets, and had anyone been able to look in on the two kings, all they would have been able to see would be a few tufts of blond and brunette hair haphazardly woven together by sleep.

The train moved on and soon all but a few passengers were left. Peter awoke to the glare of the sun through the shades, and sat up to take in his surroundings. He wondered where they were headed to that the train ride would last so long. He saw his still damp clothes draped across the seats and baggage shelves, and contemplated putting them back on…though he hated the idea of wet clothes against his recently warmed skin. An arm tugging around his waist brought him out of his musings and into the present, and he turned to gaze at his sleep partner.

Edmund was still soundly asleep, his body curling towards Peter and his left arm holding snuggly to Peter's hips. In his sleep, Edmund reminded Peter of an angel. He always had. There was just something about that dark hair against that pale complexion, the flutter of his lashes against freckled cheeks that had always made Peter want to reach out and touch him. In Narnia, Peter had often woken Edmund up by tracing his fingers over the other male's fine features.

But not anymore.

Peter may have forgiven Edmund for what he had done, but he found in the light of day that he just couldn't forget. How does one forget a betrayal of the heart? A breaking of the sacred bonds of marriage? Peter almost hated himself for it, but try as he may the memories haunted him.

He slid out from under the blankets, placing Edmund's arm on the floor, and moved up and away from his…his…

_What do I call him now? _Peter wondered, trying to deny to himself how much the thought hurt. _Husband? Can I really call him that? I don't think I can call him 'lover'. It just tastes weird. He's not the lover I knew._

He tried to avoid thinking 'or want', because the thought made his eyes water.

He turned his back on Edmund and dressed in his soggy clothes, grimacing at the feel of wet fabric dragging across his skin. He shivered when he was fully dressed, but he refused to undress and join Edmund under the blankets, again. The closeness was just too much for his broken heart to handle.

"Peter?" Edmund mumbled as he awoke.

"I'm here," Peter answered as he sat down on one of the benches. Edmund's eyes slowly swung to him as he sat up.

"Oh good, you're dressed," Edmund said as he got up to put on his own sopping clothes. Peter felt the corner of his mouth twitch up when Edmund made the same grimace he had made at the feeling of wet cloth against dry, warm skin. "We should be arriving soon."

"Where are we going?"

Edmund just smiled a secret smile to Peter. "You'll see."

A few minutes later the train came to a stop. Edmund peeked out the window, and then gathered his coat and offered his hand to Peter. He gave Peter a confused look, but did not comment when Peter stood on his own and declined the hand silently by looking the other way. He shook it off, and strode to the door of the compartment.

"We're here. Let's go…l-love."

Peter pretended to be ignorant of the hitch in Edmund's voice. Edmund did, too.

They stepped off the train onto a tiny platform in the middle of nowhere. For miles, all that Peter could see were rolling hills and woodlands. The train pulled off, and Peter found himself turning in a slow circle.

"I know this place." He murmured, almost to himself. He suspected that Edmund might be up to something that he wasn't ready for. A sense of joy and a sense of dread filled him in equal parts, and he racked his brain trying to locate the memory of this place.

"You may know it. We haven't been here in years. Oh! There she is now!"

Peter turned to see who _she_ was, fearing the worst, and followed Ed's line of sight to an older woman driving a horse and cart.

"_Mrs. McCready!?_" Peter was almost speechless.

"Well done, Pete! Now promise to be nice, will you? I know this is a shock, but we are guests."

Peter shot Edmund a dirty look, only to realize that Edmund was joking. How dare Edmund tease him?! Peter felt that they weren't on close enough terms, yet, to be poking fun at each other, and that Edmund would do so angered Peter.

He and schooled his features into the perfect mask of regal pleasantry. His 'beatific' smile grew minutely when he saw shocked horror flicker across Edmund's face.

_That's right. I'm infuriated with you. How dare you bring me here, and then tease me like everything's perfectly fine. You of all people should know better than to ambush me. How dare you._

The two youths turned back to Mrs. McCready just as she pulled the cart to a stop.

"Well, I don't have all day. Welcome back, now get in. And REMEMBER! Do NOT bother the professor over much."

"Yes, Mrs. McCready." They answered in unison.

---

The closer they drew to the mansion; to more Peter lost his anger and regained his unease. Edmund sensed the change from anger, but after the change in Peter this morning he really didn't know what to do with his husband's changing moods. When they arrived, Peter allowed Edmund to help him down from the seat, and they both turned to stare up at the house that had once been their home during the worst of times.

"Edmund? What are we doing here?"

"I thought we could use a place where we can be ourselves."

Peter turned to Edmund, and all of his anger vanished, and in its place a rush of love that terrified him welled up, unbidden. _Of_ _course_ the professor would allow and _support_ their marriage. He was a Narnian, himself. Edmund had brought Peter to the one place in the whole world where they could _be together_ without ridicule, without fear, and without boundaries to hold them back.

It was just too much, too fast.

"I don't think I can do this."

--

AN: I was originally going to make this longer, but I think there is enough information in here for one chapter. I have some ideas for the next chapter, and I should have it up sometime soon.

As always, please review!


	6. Trailing

Mrs. McCeady had already disappeared off to the stables with the horse and cart by the time Peter's statement began to actually sink into Edmund. The young man wanted to shake his head and _fight_ with Peter, but something made him stop and really look at his husband. Snapping at each other would get them nowhere, and Edmund knew this from past experience.

He finally took a moment to really assess his King. Peter's posture, though at first glance strong, was a little unsure around the chest and knees. Whenever Edmund had witnessed Peter's true resolve, he had always noted how Peter's chest would stick out just that much and his legs would be strong and straight. Now, Peter's shoulder's fought for prominence, almost curving his chest inward but trying to hide it, and his knees were ever so slightly bent as if he might suddenly have to turn tail and run.

Peter's fists were tightly balled, but more in frustration than anger. Edmund knew the difference by how definite the outlines of the bones in Peter's hands were. He could also see how Peter's fists twitched as if he wanted to really start stressing his point with hand gestures and waves. He almost smiled in fondness…but he knew how Peter would mistake it right now for mocking.

And finally, Edmund took in those beautiful blue eyes. Peter's eyes were determined, but upon closer inspection Edmund could see the beginnings of moisture at the edges. Wrapped into one picture, Edmund could see that Peter was frustrated, unsure, upset, and so completely confused by the sudden changes in Edmund that the High King probably expected reality to come crashing down to break him at any minute.

Edmund breathed deeply and sighed, and Peter's body began trembling minutely. Edmund knew that, as well. It meant that Peter was bracing himself for the 'hit', so to speak. He really did expect for this all to be an elaborate, cruel hoax of some kind. That trembling screamed 'hurt me now, while I can still take it.' Edmund wanted to vomit.

"Peter," He murmured, and flinched when Peter did. "Have I..? No, that's a ridiculous question. Of course, I have. I've terrified you. You don't really think I mean any of this, do you? You think I have some ulterior motive for trying to reunite us as a wedded couple, now after all this time."

Peter shook his head, stopped, and then slowly started to nod.

"Peter," Edmund took a few steps towards him and watched as Peter tensed with each step he took. But, Peter wasn't retreating, and Edmund wasn't going to stop approaching him. Not this time. He stopped only a pace away and gently gripped Peter's upper arms. Peter's nostrils flared and he tossed his head in order to look down at Edmund, but he did not shake off Edmund's hands. Edmund met his haughty stare with one of determination and absolute remorse. "Did you really forgive me on the train, or was it the heat of the moment? Please Peter, answer me truthfully."

Peter looked away to think. Edmund let him, still holding the High King's arms in a gentle grip. After a few moments, in which Edmund held his breath, Peter turned back to him and prepared to speak.

"Edmund—"

"High King Peter! King Edmund! Is that any way to great an old friend?"

The two turned abruptly to see Professor Kirk standing in the great doorway to the mansion.

"Diggory!" Edmund called, approaching the older man. Peter trailed after him. "It's so good to see you! Thank you for agreeing to host us on such short notice."

"It's no trouble at all," Diggory replied as he clasped each of the boys' hands in turn. "I was due to see Peter soon, anyway. Wasn't I, young High King?"

"Yes," Peter smiled a little shyly, and Edmund felt momentarily lost.

"For what?" He asked, confused.

"Oh! Didn't you know? I'm surprised that…well nevermind." the Professor seemed to rethink his course, shot a look between the two youths, and moved on. He turned to lead them into the house, talking all the while.

"Young Peter was going to come and study for his entrance exams. Weren't you, Peter?"

"Yes, Diggory. I'm looking into Cambridge or maybe Saint Andrew's."

Edmund half turned to glance at Peter. Peter avoided his gaze.

"I was even thinking of the University of Glasgow."

"Well let's not get hasty, shall we?" Diggory laughed, leading the young men down a brightly lit corridor on the second level. He stopped at the bay window at the end of the corridor and turned to his right, opening the door to reveal a beautiful suite of rooms. "Here we are. Now I assume that you'll want to sleep together, being married and all."

The professor chuckled and led the way into the room. Edmund saw Peter open his mouth to protest, but the Professor was already talking again and it would have been rude to interrupt their host. Edmund didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"I see that you haven't any luggage. Will any be sent? No, I'd guess not. Well, we'll just go into town later and fix that. In the meantime, you are welcome to these dressing gowns, and if you'll just set your clothing outside the door, Mrs. McCready will send them to the wash. I'll also send her out for a few outfits, as I'm sure you both don't want to wander around in robes all day. Well,"

Diggory turned back to the Door, and smiled at Peter and Edmund. They both found themselves returning it with one of their own. Diggory was such a kind and sociable person. It was always amusing to hear Mrs. McCready talk about him as if he liked the solitude of his den. He probably chattered to himself when they weren't there, he liked to talk so much.

"I'll leave you to it. Feel free to come and talk to me anytime. I'm off to take care of some business in my study. We'll have lunch at one if you're both up to it?"

They nodded.

"Well, then I bid you avoir for now." And he left in a flurry of joy and a smile.

--

AN: Well, there you go. Sorry it took so long. I had most of this chapter done, but I couldn't figure out how to finish it. Please read and REVIEW! :)

Also, I know that the Professor lost his mansion in the book, but for my purposes he will stay very well off. I also know that Peter was supposed to be with him by the time _Dawn Treader_ happened. Again, just go with me, here.

Preview for later chapters (Some of these won't happen for a while, but--):

Peter gasped. "You haven't—"

"I know." And Edmund smiled.

--

"It won't work! You can't force it or wish it or demand it back! It's gone!"

"…I _will_ wish for it, though. Just come with me, my love."


	7. Begging

Left to themselves, once again, both kings stood for a moment in awkward silence.

"I forgave you, Edmund," Peter began as he moved to get one of the dressing gowns. Edmund gave a start. He hadn't been expecting Peter to speak, and he watched Peter move through the room with a look that clearly defined how much he was trying to catch up with Peter's words. "But I cannot forget. At least, not right now. Do you think any less of me?"

And with that, Peter moved to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door. Moments later, the sound of the bath tap running filled the rooms. With a sigh, Edmund stripped down and slipped the second robe on, sitting on one of the grand chairs by the fire.

He would wait for Peter to finish his bath before he tried to talk to his estranged husband, again.

-EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP-

An hour later, Edmund was still sitting by the fire, waiting for Peter to come out. Peter had locked the door before getting in the bath, and Edmund could not pretend that hearing the click of the bolt hadn't made his heart clench. How was he to mend his relationship when Peter acted as if he were a stranger?

'_But you __are__a stranger, aren't you?'_ Edmund gave a start as he stared into the fire. _'You haven't been here for months, for __years__. Oh, of course you did make love to him in Narnia before the battle of Beruna, but what about the time __before __that? You haven't been away for a year, you've been away from him for __two.'_

"Two years," Edmund repeated to himself, hardly able to believe that it had been that long since they had been _happily_ married. "I've been gone for _two whole years_—"

"Yes, you have." Edmund jumped, and turned to see Peter standing in the bathroom doorway, a bathrobe wrapped securely around him. "The bathroom is free."

Edmund watched from his chair as Peter moved around the room, heading to the vanity where a water basin, a shaving kit, and a brush had been laid out. Peter picked up the brush, and began slicking his wet hair back, out of his face.

"Peter—"

"Don't." Peter paused mid-brush, catching Edmund's eyes in the mirror with an intensity that froze the words on Edmund's lips. "You've said you're sorry, and I've forgiven you."

He looked back to his reflection and continued brushing his hair. There was a moment of tense silence as Edmund waited to see if Peter would say more. Peter moved around to sit in front of the vanity, continuing his grooming ritual. Edmund couldn't help feeling entranced as he watched Peter brush shaving cream over his face. When had he started shaving, again?

Edmund briefly remembered a late evening in Narnia before a formal ball. His fingers had taken the path of the shaving brush, the white cream on his fingers as he smoothed it over his husband's skin…

'Stop that!' He thought to himself as he shook off the reverie. Now was not the time to remember such things.

"I realize you're trying to 'make things better' between us, Edmund," Edmund gave a start as Peter's voice came to him. He realized that Peter had finished shaving while he had been off in the memory. Edmund blinked a few times, trying to catch back up to Peter, once again. "But do you really think you can?"

Peter's eyes were helpless and plaintive as he turned on the vanity stool to face Edmund.

"I'd like to try." Edmund answered honestly, almost at a loss for what Peter was ultimately getting at. "Don't you want to, Peter? Be the way we were?"

"This isn't about me." Peter snapped as he moved to the door, throwing it open to gather a pair of slippers left outside the door by the professor. He slipped them on, and headed out. Edmund stood shell-shocked, and then in a flash he was in the hallway, grabbing onto Peter's retreating form as it moved away from their shared room. He turned Peter to him and tried to lead him back to the room.

Peter let himself be gently man-handled. He was just too tired to fight. Edmund sat him in a chair by the fire and stood in front of him to block any possible exit.

"It has _everything_ to do with you, Peter." Edmund paced back and forth a few times before sighing, slumping his shoulders, and turning back to Peter. "Look Peter, could you just stay here until I bathe and change? Please? I want to talk to you, and before you say it: I _know_ I don't deserve it. You have every right to get up and walk out that door, but would you please, just…stay. Please, Peter. I'll beg if you want. Stay."

Peter watched as Edmund's countenance deflated before him, listening to the pleading words of his estranged husband. He couldn't disregard the request. He just couldn't. Regardless of the hurt in his head and the anguish in his heart, he couldn't ignore the desire his whole being still had to _be_ with this king. This man.

"I'll stay," Peter murmured, settling back into the chair and matching tired eyes to Edmund's.

"Thank you," Edmund whispered back, more grateful that even he had imagined he's be upon hearing Peter's assent to his request. He turned and headed to the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked.

Peter settled back into the great chair for a doze and a ponder.

AN:

Sorry it takes me so loooooong to update. :/ Thanks for keeping with me! I didn't know if I wanted to publish this, but I couldn't keep you waiting anymore. PLEASE review. The longer, the better. It helps me write. ;)

Preview of chapters to come:

"You wouldn't even hold my hand. Why should I let /you/ touch /me/, now?"

"Peter." And Edmund gave up on speech, grabbing Peter's fingers with his and heading off across the lawn.


	8. Bargaining

When Edmund re-entered the bedroom, hair dripping and fresh robe wrapped around his slim frame, it was to the sight of Peter dozing restlessly in the chair where he'd left the blonde. Even in sleep, Peter's countenance held a tension and a discontent the resonated in Edmund's chest, making it seize and ache.

How he longed to brush the lines between Peter's furrowed brow away with the tips of his fingers. How he ached to smooth that feather-soft hair, brushed but now mussed with sleep, back into its proper place. Edmund felt as though a great chasm has been carved between himself and his love, more so now than ever.

This was not the first time Edmund had longed to _touch_ Peter, and had felt the overwhelming need to refrain from acting on the urge. He hadn't told Peter yet, but _every single night_ of their estranged years in England Edmund had wanted nothing more than to have just _one touch_ of that golden beauty.

When they had first returned from Narnia, Edmund had denied Peter adamantly during the day. He was terrified of what the world would do should someone discover that their love was more than familial, or at least more than familial in the brotherly way. Peter was Edmund's family, but he was also his _life_. The two had left their family to become _one._ They were still a part of their family, but then again _apart_ from everything else that was not the union of their marriage. Edmund refused to see his life desecrated by prejudice, and this was England.

_Not_ Narnia.

But at night. _Oh, at night_ Edmund couldn't stay away from Peter for long. Though he fought valiantly against himself, hearing Peter howl and cry himself to sleep those first nights back in grey Britain, he could not prevent his feet from moving to Peter's bedside after the lights had gone and Peter's exhausted conscience had fled to the world of dreams.

He never touched Peter, those cold months following their unexpected exile from Narnia, but how he had _yearned_ to. He found himself staying for hours on end just to watch Peter's chest rise and fall. He was in pain, but at least he was safe. This is what Edmund had told himself. This is what he had deluded himself into believing.

The months had turned into years, and Edmund had weaned himself of his nightly ritual, but that didn't mean he hadn't _wanted_ to continue going to Peter. The visits became less and less, and one night he stopped all together. It was the first night after Peter started insisting he 'had it sorted'. The urge to shake some sense into Peter would have been too great to deny, had Edmund visited him that night.

Now, though, Edmund knew he was a fool to stay away. A fool to ever deny Peter, and a fool to fight his own urges to go to his Husband, sleeping or awake.

He should have comforted Peter, shushed his howls and dried his tears. He should never have denied him in the light of day. He should have shook him the _moment_ those infernal words had left his pink, pink lips.

'_I should have, but I didn't,'_ Edmund thought as he neared his love. _'But that was then. This is now. I know better.'_

"Peter," Edmund murmured, fighting his was across his mental canyon to trace his fingers over the crease between Peter's brows. "Wake up, my dearest."

Peter 'mph'ed, creasing his brows further and shaking his head away from the questing fingers. Edmund's heart squeezed in his chest. Though the move was an unconscious one, Edmund could still remember when that head-shake would have been a press-forward. When Peter would have sought his caress instead of shying from it. But that was neither here nor there. They had things to discuss.

"Peter."

Peter's eyes fluttered and he took a moment to process his surroundings. Readjusting himself in the chair, Peter finally turned his gaze to Edmund, starting to find him so close.

"Sorry," He murmured briskly, "Must have dropped off. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I did."

Edmund took the seat across from Peter. He spent a few minutes gathering his thoughts, as he had when judging a trial at court. Peter shifted once more before exploding.

"Well?"

Edmund's head jerked. Peter usually waited very patiently for Edmund to gather his thoughts.

'_Again, that was then. This is now,'_ He reminded himself. _'You've inflicted a fair amount of damage since then.'_

"Peter, I'm not going to rehash how I've wronged you—"

"Good!"

Edmund just stared at Peter until the king settled, again.

"What I am going to do is fix what I've done.

I know I can't change the past," Edmund rushed when Peter seemed to wind up for another interruption. "but I can choose my actions for the future.

From here on out, I will be the man you married. I may only be sixteen, but I've _been_ twenty, thirty, thirty-five. I know what it's like to marry your soul mate, and I know that it's like to go to battle with that very same soul mate at your side.

Peter, I've seen you lead armies and I've watched you grow. I may not know you now, but I have _known_ you. I once knew all of your likes and your dislikes, your passions as well as your fears. I used to taste your tears and swallow your laughter, and I _want_ that."

He paused to let his words sink in, looking for something, _anything_ in Peter's face. His husband's face was mute.

"Peter," He murmured, slipping to the floor before the High King with his head bowed and taking Peter's hands in his. His eyes peaked up through his lashes to catch Peter's ocean-blue orbs. "I'm not asking you to forget the wrong I've committed. I'm asking you to let me try _again_. Let me change. Let me return to who I was before we left Narnia that first time.

Let me be _yours."_

And Edmund knelt there, waiting for a response. After a few minutes, he lowered his eyes in submission, but did not remove his hands from Peter's.

His breathing was even, but his heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he felt he was hearing the drums of a long-forgotten war.

Finally, Peter reached to raise Edmund's face to match his. After searching Edmund's gaze for something Edmund did not know, Peter answered.

"What did you have in mind?"

AN: Man, it takes me forever to update! I got a wonderful review today and this chapter just hit me! I HAD to write this chapter after that. Reviews are author-food. You feed me, and I have enough strength to beat up that writer's block. ;)

The last preview isn't going to happen for a bit, but here's something from the next chapter:

"Edmund? What's this?"

Edmund just smiled, returning to his work.

"It's for you."

Peter flushed a pretty pink.


	9. Reading

Peter walked through the halls of the manor, Edmund at his side. They didn't speak, and for that Peter was grateful. After all of the confessions and oaths of redemption, Peter didn't think he could take much more conversation between him and his…

Peter sighed. He still couldn't find the right word to describe Edmund. Calling him "King" seemed too formal, and honestly Peter didn't know if he could so readily pledge his allegiance as he once had. Oh, surely he would defend Edmund if it were life or death, but to call him "King" was almost too fond and intimate for Peter. "Husband" and "lover" were out of the question. If "King" was too intimate, than the use of the other two was just agony.

Peter mulled over this as he and Edmund made their way to the lunch prepared for them. So lost was he in his thoughts that he almost walked into the closed dining room door.

"Peter!" Edmund called softly. The High King looked up to find his nose inches from the Maple. He stopped short, and flicked his eyes to Edmund, who had turned to face him should he have needed a hand to stop his momentum.

"Thank you…Edmund." And that was it. That was all Peter could call him. Not "love" or "Husband", "King", "Friend", or even "Brother". No, not even "Ed". Just Edmund. That was his name. And that was all.

He turned the handle, and moved into the dining room.

EPEPEPEPEPEPEPEP

Edmund tried not to wince at the lack of feeling in Peter's voice as he murmured Edmund's given name. Once, that name had tumbled from Peter's lips with such affection, such love, that Edmund had thrilled to hear it again, had often encouraged Peter say it, again-moan it, again. Now, it sounded like the name of a stranger Peter had just met.

It was maddening.

Edmund wanted to grab Peter and press the words "I _love_ you" over and over again in to the High King's skin until Peter finally realized that, this time around, Edmund wasn't leaving. He wasn't going to give up, or deny them, or do anything to go against those bonds of marriage that he had sworn before Aslan, King, and Country to uphold. He would be by Peter's side until their dying day, and would walk the paths of Aslan's Country with him until the end of Time and beyond. He would be with Peter for Forever and a Day, a Year, an Eternity, and be glad for it.

Lunch would have been a fun affair in any other setting. The professor was a lively chap with a wide range of knowledge and a contagious laugh. But with Peter so put-on and half fake beside him, Edmund couldn't really enjoy the company. He could tell that Peter was trying to soldier through for the Professor's sake, but his heart wasn't in it.

Edmund could tell that the Professor could sense the dissension between them, and though he smiled at the young men for their efforts, he kindly called the end of lunch, early. Edmund sent an apologetic smile to the Professor after Peter made his exit, but Diggory just smiled kindly and waved him off.

"It'll get better, young King. You'll see." And the older man was off through the far door. Edmund turned to follow Peter's path out into the hall.

EPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEP

Edmund found Peter in the Library, perusing the many stacks for some afternoon reading. Edmund was glad to see that some habits hadn't changed, at least.

"Hello, Peter," Edmund murmured as he approached the blond. "May I sit with you? Or would you like some time and peace to yourself, my king?"

Peter regarded Edmund as he withdrew a book from the shelves and moved to a couch by the bay window. After settling himself comfortably to one side he opened the book to the first chapter, skipping the preface, and relaxed into the arm of the couch. Edmund, thinking he would be ignored, readied himself to take his leave. Peter's voice stopped him before he could take a single step.

"If you can sit and not stare, you are more than welcome to read with me."

And with that, Peter was lost in his book. Edmund tried not to smile. He picked a book from the nearest shelf, not caring the title or the subject, and settled into the second couch facing Peter. As requested, he did not stare, but forced himself to become engrossed in the book he had picked. Funnily enough, Edmund discovered that he had picked a book on ancient sea travel. In minutes, he was lost in his own book and his comparisons of these earthly travels with his own Narnian, Dawn Treader one.

As he read, he had his first idea of how to woo his beloved back into his arms. Content to be where he was, he faded into his thoughts.

EPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEP

Hours later, Peter glanced up from his book to rest his eyes, and found Edmund sprawled comfortably across from him. He watched as Edmund moved to turn a page and rest his head sideways on his hand. In that moment, Peter was struck once again by how beautiful Edmund was, and how familiar this scene was to him. Reading together in the library or the study of the palace had always been a favored pastime, and Peter found his heart swelling despite himself. These moments had been treasured, and where once he had been sure he'd never experience this kind of calm ever again, here it was like an old friend. Something he had been aching for, appearing when he'd least expected it, and needed it most.

"Edmund," He called softly, rousing Edmund and startling himself. He hadn't meant to say anything. The name had just slipped past his lips, without his knowledge that it had been resting there behind them in the first place. It had just sprung into being, as if his heart and not he had spoken.

"Yes, Peter?" Edmund answered, curious and patiently waiting. His dark eyes were kind and gentle, if a little fuzzy from focusing on the text of his book for so long.

"I—" Peter didn't know. "Nothing. Sorry." He murmured, ducking his head behind his book as a faint blush rose on his cheeks, unbidden. "Carry on."

As Edmund watched Peter duck and blush, he allowed a small smile to creep across his features. He dropped his gaze back to his book. "It's alright, Peter. I'm sure you'll remember whatever it was."

He watched Peter's head shoot back up to him in his peripheral vision, but didn't look away from his book as he schooled his features to a more neutral pose. He didn't want Peter to know that Edmund had understood that call probably better than Peter, himself, had. Not yet, at least. Peter returned to his book, and Edmund let the smile steal across his face, once again.

There was hope, yet. In fact, there was an awful lot of hope.

EPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEPEP

AN: IT'S ALIVE! Or, I am, at least. ;) This really kind of came out of nowhere. I was just trying to figure out how to get this story moving again, and all of a sudden I just _had_ to listen to "I'll See you, again" and "In the Library" from the Easy Virtue Soundtrack, and "Kisses and Cake" from P.S I Love You….and Boom! We have a chapter! I know it's short, but I think I know where the next chapter is headed…and how it starts. ;)

Thanks for sticking with me! Please Read and Review! It really does help me write the next chapter!

As always, here's a little preview of some dialogue that _might_ make an appearance, soon:

"Bless this ground, and the life it harbors. Bless the Animals, the animals, and the rest, that they might grow heavy and bear fruit. Bless the Spring, that it will be a first step to a good harvest. Aslan bless the soil beneath my King, the trees above his head, and the sky that harbors the Heavens where my Husband's eyes currently cast their gaze."

"Edmund!"


	10. Shopping

Shopping with Diggory had been an interesting affair for Peter, to say the least. It had also been a bit awkward with Edmund there, as well. It was obvious, as well as expected, that Diggory had a great love for the little village near the manor. The professor had chosen manor and grounds for their similarities to Narnia it was true, but he had also chosen to make the location home due to the charming little village not an hour's carriage ride from the front gates. Though it was obvious that wartime had subdued what must have been a very lively little community, the people were still charming, and what little commerce they had seemed to be fairing pretty well with people like Diggory and other manor owners frequenting their little shops to avoid the danger of large cities like London where the bombing had occurred.

Diggory chatted with every store owner they came into contact with, and each one seemed very fond of the older Narnian. When introduced, Edmund and Peter were greeted like old friends or darling younger brothers. The owners of the clothing store, a charming older couple maybe ten years older than the Pevensie's own parents with a son on the front, insisted on gifting the clothes to Peter and Edmund once they discovered that the boys had arrived with only the shirts on their backs.

Being unable to convince them otherwise, and not wanting to offend, both young kings had thanked the owners profusely, and offered to help move the shipment that had just arrived at the store off the delivery truck. The owners accepted the free labor, and invited the boys by for tea. Edmund murmured to Peter as they left that "They're very much like the Beavers, aren't they?" Peter found himself nodding in silent agreement, and hiding a small smile by tapping his fingers against his lips as if he were thinking. He conveniently "forgot" that Edmund knew this disguise, having seen it in negotiation rooms when Peter had found another dignitary, or something Edmund had said, funny, but didn't want them to know he was laughing, inside.

No, Peter enjoyed meeting the villagers, and conversing with Diggory, and watching the older professor bustle around. What made the trip awkward was the fitting for the clothes. Being "brothers", the owners didn't think they needed to be separated for the taking of measurements, and in Narnia it wouldn't have been an issue. But this wasn't Narnia, and they weren't just "brothers". Edmund had always had a possessive streak, they both had, and seeing the other be poked and prodded for a fitting had always set off a little zing of "mine". It wasn't that they didn't like their tailors in Narnia, and the definitely liked the owners of the little shop in the village, but seeing someone else's hands so intimately on his spouse always made Edmund stare like a hawk. Peter could feel the brunette's eyes on him as they were fitted for the clothing in the store. In the past, he would have been staring back just as intensely. Edmund was _his_ just as much as he was Edmund's.

Peter tried to deny, internally, that he still felt that little zing standing in the shop with someone else touching his… Not going there. He is _Edmund_. That is all.

The whole trip, Peter waited for Edmund to push him away. Waited for a little gang of bully boys to come out of nowhere and convince Edmund that hanging around his "pretty-boy Peter" wasn't _done_. Part of him knew it was irrational, but he was just waiting for Edmund to revert, to reject him, to deny that he had even _tried_ to talk Peter into giving him another chance. A huge wave of guilt washed over him as he watched Edmund turn a smile his way. _Aslan_ had talked to Edmund. If he couldn't have faith in the Just King, he could at least have faith in his Lord.

Did that mean he was going to take Edmund's proposal back in their suites seriously? Did this mean that he was going to let Edmund court him? Woo him?

_What Aslan has brought together, let no man, beast, or being tear asunder. _

Taking a deep breath, Peter climbed back into the carriage and headed back to the manor with Diggory and Edmund on either side.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

When night fell, after dinner had been cleared away and the occupants of the house had bid each other a good night, Peter found himself dressed and ready for bed and staring down his…staring down Edmund across the expanse of the four-poster bed.

"I can sleep on the couch, if it pleases my love." Edmund offered, trying to put on a brave face, though the thought of being expelled from his husband's bed was a heart wrenching one. He had spent so many days and nights away from their marriage bed voluntarily that he wouldn't be surprised if Peter did not allow him back in immediately upon his return. "In fact, maybe it would be better—"

"I knew it," Peter growled, his hurt desperately trying to hide behind the anger in his eyes. "I knew you couldn't be serious, couldn't be true. Oh sure, pretty words for the pretty prince in the light of day—"

"Peter, What-?"

"You can't stand to really stick around," Peter's hands joined him in his tirade, waving around and gesturing in his fervor. "Aslan forbid you touch me for longer than it takes to get a point across."

He began turning down the covers and the sheets with jerking movements, his eyes dropping to fix on the task before him. He couldn't bear to look at Edmund, or even let Edmund see the tears of frustration, anger, and hurt hanging in the corners and clouding his vision. He climbed into bed and fluffed his pillow with more force than really necessary, snarling at Edmund as he went.

"Aslan forbid you actually fucking _care."_

Edmund stared at his husband, who now lay face down in his pillows, in astonishment. Peter rarely, if ever, cursed, and he definitely did _not_ use the trump card of all curses. And in the same sentence with their Lord's name? Never.

_Aslan, what have I __done!_

"Peter," Edmund murmured as he gently turned down the other side of the bed and began to climb under the covers. "My darling love—"

"No," Peter denied as Edmund tried to pull him to his chest. Edmund would not be swayed, and he pulled the High King to his chest despite the hands pressing against him. "No, you can't stay here. I won't let you. No. You go sleep on the couch. It's what you wanted to do, anyway. 'For the better' and all that rot!"

"After that little tirade, I am _definitely not_ sleeping on the couch. I only offered to sleep there because I thought it was what _you_ would want. Peter, be still!" Peter stilled in Edmund's arms, glaring up at him through his lashes. Edmund was relieved for a short second that Peter could still obey him at least on the little things. "I have _always_ wanted to share your bed; our bed. I have _never_ wanted to sleep apart from you. Not since before Lucy met Tumnus."

Peter huffed against his chest.

"Liar."

"What?" Edmund gazed down at Peter in confusion.

"You lie. All of those nights, Edmund. All of those nights I cried myself to sleep after we returned. Where were you then, hm? Where were you when I howled myself to sleep in my pillow and you were only one room away? I _know_ you must've heard me. Our walls were thin, but you never came. You never held me, never touched me, never kissed me, never comforted me, never l-loved me…" Peter's breathing became ragged as tears spilled over his lower lids. He dropped his head to Edmund's chest, clutching Edmund's night shirt and wailing into the fabric a strangled "Whyyyy! Why would you do that to me?" He sobbed.

Edmund held Peter closer to himself, trying to 'shh' Peter and deny his accusation that he had never loved him; trying to assure Peter that he was here now, and that they were going to be okay. Peter wiped his eyes against his balled fists and turned his gaze back up to Edmund, now frantic in his grief.

"What did I do? Tell me what I did to make you hate me so, that you would just leave me to cry out for you night after night. Was I not a good king? Was I a bad lover?" Peter looked away, his eyes roaming the room as if he could spot the answer there in the shadows. "Did I cling to you too fiercely? Oh Aslan! That's it, isn't it!"

Peter looked at his hands clutching to Edmund, and flattened his palms to try and smooth the fabric. He looked up at Edmund with a frightened kind of sorrow, and began trying to push himself away from Edmund.

"I clung to you too tightly, didn't I? I just wanted you so badly, and a held onto you until you just felt confined! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry…"

Edmund refused to let Peter go, and drew the distraught king back to his chest.

"No, Peter. No. You didn't do _anything_ wrong. You were right. You were perfect. It was me, my darling. It was me," Edmund held the shuddering blond close to his chest, kissed the crown of that feather soft hair, and rested his cheek against the tresses, gently rocking his love. "I heard you. I did. And I wanted to go to you, _so badly_. But I was so scared.

I thought we couldn't be together here, and I knew that if I went to you, I'd never leave. If I climbed into bed with you, if I touched you, if I _talked to you_, I'd break and I'd stay. And Peter? I should have. I should have gone to you, and talked to you, and touched you, and _held you_. You'll never know just _how much_ I regret never coming for you when you called that first year. And even when you didn't call I should have come for you, anyway. You didn't cling too tightly.

You were an excellent King.

You were the perfect lover."

"Were—"

"Are."

"You said 'were'," Peter sniffed. Edmund wouldn't let him turn away.

"And you were, and you are, and you will be. Peter, you are _everything_. I'm not leaving, this time. Not now, not ever. If I have to spend eternity proving to you that I love you more than life, that I'll never leave, I will. You're mine, and I'm yours, and that is all. And that is everything."

"Just…Just hold me 'til I'm asleep?" Peter quietly requested, exhaustion setting in, his eyes drooping and his body going slack.

"I'll hold you 'til you wake, my darling husband."

"Just as long as you want to." And Peter was out.

Edmund watched Peter's chest rise and fall.

"If I held you that long, my love, you'd never feel the absence of my arms, again," He kissed Peter's crown once more. "Sweet dreams, my husband."

Edmund followed Peter into sleep, hoping that this night had been progress, and that he wouldn't wake to another day of cold Peter, as he had on the train.

AN: AH HA! Another chapter! Look at me go! ;) I know this was an awful lot of angst. You might want to keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times. It's going to be an emotional rollercoaster for a while. But, hey! That's what happens when you deal with this much history and love between lovers. I'm avoiding calling them "ex-lovers", but I hope it's coming across that that is how Peter views their relationship. Don't forget the bridge, people! He divorced them in his mind. Edmund has a long road ahead of him, in order to convince Peter that they _are _still very much married.

Honestly, this story writes itself. I had something completely (well…not completely…but) different in mind for this chapter, but they just kind of took over, and then Peter had to have a breakdown. Ah! I keep trying to get to the courting, and Edmund is totally for it, but then Peter has another angst moment and I can't just ignore him. He kind of started the whole story, to begin with. Anyway, I may have to skip the preview, as I'll be writing from note memory. The original computer with my story notes got a trojan, and now has to be wiped. Thankfully, I didn't lose TOO many notes, and I still have the previews I had given you in other chapters. *Snarls*

Anyway, Please READ AND REVIEW! : ) My Anon review should be enabled now. I can't respond to Anon, so I hope you sign in. ; ) As always, I don't own, I borrow. And Flames are used to heat my apt.


	11. Dreaming

_Peter was dreaming, he knew. But that didn't stop the images flickering in front of him from seeming any less familiar to him. These were not just dreams; they were memories._

_Peter watched himself, as if he were a third party to the story playing out before his eyes. He watched as a nineteen year old Edmund walked side by side with an older version of himself. He watched as old battles passed before him, vivid as the day they had occurred. He watched himself fight, watched himself propose to Edmund, watched as he was wed in the Great Hall in Cair Paravel by the Great Lion to the love of his life, watched as the familiar scenes scrolled through._

_Sometimes, the scenes were short, just a snippet of the whole. Sometimes, he lived out the whole memory. As the memories flitted passed him like a spinning rolodex, Peter realized that there seemed to be a chronological kind of order to them. Though he wasn't reliving them in first-person, he could still remember some of his thoughts and emotions that he had harbored at the time. The joy he felt on his wedding day came rushing back to him, full force, welcome and refreshing. The excitement of the Stag chase flowed through him like water, as well as the secret glee he had felt on the day they had returned to England; at least, the glee he had felt until he and his siblings passed back through the wardrobe._

_And there it was. Just as it had happened in real life, Peter had been blithely enjoying the reflection of his memories when despair reared its ugly head. When they had realized they were back in England Peter's world had come crashing down. Now, as he slept, the High King watched the dawning horror on his face as Edmund turned his back and ignored his advances and pleas for explanation. He watched as Edmund moved out of their shared room at Digory's manor, and listened as the well-remembered fight over Edmund's impending departure from the room raged between the boy-again kings._

"_Please, Edmund stay!" Peter watched as his younger self pleaded with his husband, tears in his eyes as he gripped the Just King's sleeve. "Please, my love—"_

"_No, Pete," Edmund denied, shaking Peter's hand from his sleeve and closing the now-full trunk on the stripped bed. He refused to meet Peter's troubled and confused gaze. "You don't understand."_

"_Don't understand what? Why my husband is leaving our bed?"_

"_Peter, be quiet!" Edmund hissed, checking outside the door to see if the professor or Mrs. McCready happened to be near._

"_No, I __don't_ _understand!"_

"_Someone might have heard you!"_

"_Are you ashamed of me?"_

"_Yes! No! Peter, we can't be married here!"_

_Peter stood in shocked silence, the room spinning around him as his husband's words sunk in. Edmund watched the High King, trying to convey his meaning and his logic with his dark eyes. Time seemed to freeze. Finally, Peter blinked a few times, trying to get the ringing in his ears to stop. He swayed where he stood, and then gripped his own throat and stomach. Meeting Edmund's eyes for a few seconds, he took a heaving breath._

"_I think I'm going to be sick," And with that, Peter rushed passed Edmund, headed for the nearest bathroom. The blood rushing in his ears blocked out Edmund's voice as it tried to call him back; pleaded with him to just understand._

_Peter remembered how he had spent the next hour dispelling every last bit of lunch from his stomach and then heaving sobs between his two sisters, who had been out shopping during the argument. Neither of them could get the story out Peter because his sobs were just too strong to understand the words interspersed between gasps for air._

_Peter watched in growing despair as he dreamed of the restless nights, the horrid fights, the battle of Beruna, and finally of the ultimate betrayal of fully losing Edmund to the bullies of the day. _

_The dream landed him on another night. He was forced to watch his younger self as the young man screamed for a husband that wouldn't respond. He heard his own pleas into the pillow, and watched his own tears when his younger self realized that no, Edmund would not be returning to their bed. Edmund would not come to comfort him. It had been three days after Edmund had moved out, and Peter had dreamed of a horrible battle where the Narnians had won, but at a terrible price. He'd woken up screaming for his lost troops, and then he'd begun screaming for Edmund when he'd felt the cold side of the bed. His sleep-muddled brain had convinced him that Edmund must have died at the battle. For why else would Edmund not be there, beside him? And then he had finally remembered the truth of Edmund's absence, and he had tried to call his husband back. _

"_Please, I need you!" Peter's legs had been too weak to leave the bed; hi strength zapped by the nightmare. "Edmund, please!"_

_He had called himself horse, and then wept himself to sleep. _

_As Peter watched, he found himself weeping as well. He remembered the pain, the agony of being ignored. Edmund had been just __one room__ over. He could have come. He __must__ have heard him. _

"_Please, Edmund. Please," Peter found himself pleading along with his younger self; pleading __for__ his younger self. When the cries had turned to shouts, the shouts to sobs, and the sobs to whimpers, Peter found himself taking up the slack where his voice had once failed him. _

"_Please come! Please! I know you can hear me! Why can't you come for me! Ed-_

-mund!"

"I'm here, Peter!"

Peter woke with a gasp, searching around wildly as his hand clutched at the nearest object. He felt fabric in his clenched fists. Something pulled him closed and pressed repeatedly against his crown, brushing hair out of his eyes.

"What's wrong, my love? You were crying out for me. What happened?"

Peter took gasping breaths of air, his eyes fixing briefly on the fabric in his hands before trailing up to match dark brown orbs above him. He was clutching a shirt, he realized. Those had been arms that had pulled him close; kisses pressing against his crown. This couldn't be—

"Edmund?" Peter asked, weakly.

"Yes, my king. What's wrong?"

"Oh, God! Oh, Aslan!" Peter began to pant against Edmund's chest his head dropping forward and his eyes clenching shut. "I can't breathe!"

"Hey, shhh. Shhh. Breathe, Peter. Just breathe," Edmund realized that Peter was having a panic attack against him. He clutched Peter tighter, trying to influence the blonde's breathing with the steady rise and fall of his own chest. "It's ok. Whatever it was, it was just a dream."

"No," Peter moaned against his breastbone, still gulping for air. "They were memories. They were real."

"Then that's all they are now; memories. I'm right here. You called, and I've answered. You'll be just fine," Edmund continued to breathe for both of them, and gradually Peter began to calm.

As Edmund waited, soothing his king with words and gentle touches, Peter relaxed against him, humming out his breaths as he began to regain his bearings.

"Hmmm, you were here," Peter finally murmured. He opened his eyes to look up and Edmund. He found Edmund looking back at him, and felt himself smile. "I called, and you were here. You weren't in the other room. You were right here next to me. Right where I needed you."

"Yes."

"Are you ashamed of me?"

Edmund started against Peter. At first the question seemed to have come out of nowhere.

_They were memories._

Oh. _Memories_. Edmund remembered that question. He remembered that day.

"No. I was a fool that day, to ever say that I was ashamed of you," Edmund once again found himself staring deeply into Peter's eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of his words. "I regret that fight. I regret that day. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I never should have left you. Ever. Peter?"

"Yes?"

"We can't _just_ be married, here. We _have_ to be married, here. Here, and everywhere else," Edmund cuddled Peter under his chin, settling the covers more securely around them and pressing a few more kisses to Peter's hair and brow. "_My_ soul mate. _My_ love. _My_ _king._"

"Go to sleep, Edmund," Peter snarked sleepily, trying not to smile.

"Yes, my king," Edmund answered, smiling himself as he felt the upturn of Peter's lips against his skin between the v in his shirt collar.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

Peter awoke the next morning with a weight on his abdomen and a wonderful warmth pressed against his side. He stretched his arms above his head and curled his toes, popping his back and letting out and silent yawn, before for turning into the warmth. He was just settling himself for another few minutes of sleep when reality came barreling towards him. His eyes flew open and his head whipped back to examine the warmth in front of him.

Edmund!

He had stayed.

The whole night, just like he had promised. Peter blinked as he remembered his horrid dreams, and waking to Edmund's words of comfort and warm embraces. Edmund had made a promise to Peter, and _kept it._ Something bloomed in Peter, making him feel lightheaded and a little giddy under his skin. Edmund had never really kept a promise to Peter here in England. This was very new, and yet so old it felt as if he should walk out of their rooms and find himself at Cair. Narnian Edmund had never broken a promise to Peter, not unless it was a life or death situation taking precedence. And even then, Edmund always made it up to Peter. For Edmund to keep a promise to Peter in England was a Big Deal. Peter felt as if he might have another panic attack; this time for an entirely different reason.

Just as Peter was gearing up for a big "I can't breathe" moment, Edmund's dark eyes opened to match his.

"Good morning, my golden ciel."

Peter gasped, softly. "You haven't—"

"I know." And Edmund smiled. Edmund hadn't used words like _ciel_ or _amore_, since their first return.

French words were things the siblings had once used in Narnia as a way to remember their mother, and then simply as a language for private, family conversation. The Pevensies had also been known to use the language for private consultations during negotiations with foreign dignitaries.

Once they began courting, Edmund and Peter had favored the language due to its nickname; the language of Love. And it had definitely been that for both Kings. Edmund, especially, had been known for using French in his terms of endearment. It was only for Peter, and Peter liked it that way. The girls may have been on the receiving end of every English pet name under the sun, but only _Peter_ was ever called a pet name with a French word thrown in. Peter kept to the same unspoken rule, though he very rarely called Edmund anything in French beyond _Mon Cher_, or _Mon Amore._ Edmund like to be a bit more…wordy, for lack of a better term.

A shiver ran through Peter, hard enough for Edmund to feel it, before the older king surged forward to press his lips against the younger king's. It was hard and fast, and over before it really began. Peter let out a short, high "mmph!" before jerking back, shocked by his own actions.

"I don't know what just came over me," He whispered, as surprised as Edmund how quickly the impulse to kiss Edmund had come over him. "It's just…That word…and you said… and you haven't—I…I had to." He finally murmured in wonder.

"Don't ask me to forgive you. I'm not letting you take it back," Edmund said with a smirk. "That one was mine. I'm keeping it."

Peter let out an astonished little laugh, still trying to puzzle himself out, before shaking his head and dropping it back to the pillow. "I think I need more sleep."

"Alright."

"Stay?"

"How about I get you some breakfast? I can wait until you sleep, and then get us a tray. Would that please my lord?"

Peter thought for a moment. "As long as you stay 'til I'm asleep, and are here when I awake, then I _guess_ it would please this lord."

Edmund smiled at Peter's sleepy, teasing tone.

"As you wish."

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

When Peter woke for a third time, it was to the smell of eggs, bread, and mushrooms. He lifted his head to see a tray sitting on the nightstand beside the bed, and a paper rose resting on the pillow beside him. As he sat up, he scanned the room to find Edmund sitting at the writing desk pouring over something he seemed to be scribbling on. Peter lifted the rose from the pillow, examining the familiar craftsmanship.

"Edmund? What's this?"

Edmund just smiled, returning to his work.

"It's for you."

Peter flushed a pretty pink.

The rose was yet another thing he hadn't seen Edmund do in years.

"Will you come and eat with me?" Peter asked, a little timidly.

Edmund turned from his work, setting the pen in his hand down and making his way to the bed.

"Of course. I was just waiting for you."

Peter moved over to make room for Edmund under the covers as the Just King moved the tray and himself into the bed. They shared their breakfast in companionable silence. Though in Narnia they would have been talking between bites and laughing over biscuits, Peter didn't find the silence uncomfortable. It gave him time to think.

Edmund really _was_ trying to woo him, again. He was making good on a promise. Peter was starting to realize that, whether or not his brain was in it yet, his body and his emotions were definitely reacting positively to Edmund's advances. Just this, having breakfast and not feeling sick around food, was kind of new for him. Being away from Edmund, he had lost weight and his appetite had decreased in many facets of his life.

He hoped Edmund remained true. He kind of liked feeling healthy, again…even if it was only for a few short hours.

_Please, Edmund. Stay true to me. Please…be __real__. Oh, Aslan, let him be __real_.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

AN: Ok, so this _would _have been out on the 16th, but I kind of had a few problems with my internet! :/ Anyway, I really hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! : ) I'm probably going to be posting a few chapters in a row, as not having a full internet connection sort of forced me to write, instead….Don't get any ideas! ; )

I think, for my writing purposes, I'd like to explain a little bit of my punctuation. (This hasn't been commented on; I'm just putting this up for my own piece of mind.) ;) When I use "…" or "—", I'm using the actor's version of those marks. In other words, I use them like an actor would deliver them. "…" is a pause; think 1,2,3 between the first word…and the next. A "—"is like a stutter/sharp breath intake, or an interruption of thought, either by the character's own hesitation or mental subject change, or by another character's words.

As a note, one of my reviewers mentioned that I've been misspelling "Digory"…I've been using two g's. Oops! I've gone back and fixed some of it. But, let's just say from now on I'll spell it correctly, and if you re-read the story you'll just have to deal with my laziness when it comes to fixing older chapters. I will someday get around to it. I don't have my books right now, and again my internet is fickle. So if you notice something that is really, glaringly off in the newest chapter, let me know. I will fix problems, one chapter prior. Some of the differences are by choice; some of them are simply lack of resources. If you _are_ going to send a critique, I do ask that you _also put something positive_. It's the positive stuff that helps me continue writing. ; )

So, as always, please read and review. :)

P.S. Did anyone notice my movie reference? Hint: It isn't a Chronicles movie reference. ;)

Here's the preview…I warn you now, it might be a cliffy…

Preview:

"Edmund…There's something I have to tell you..." Peter twisted his hands in his lap, finding it hard to meet Edmund's gentle gaze. "I haven't been completely honest with you."

"What do you mean, Peter?"

"I've been keeping something from you…It's big, and I don't even know where to start, or how to tell you. I guess I'd call it a—a truth. It's a…a truth I think you need to know, if we're ever going to have a real marriage again," Peter finally tilted his head up to meet Edmund, face to face.

"Peter, you're making me nervous. Just tell me."


	12. Pondering

A few hours later found Peter sitting in the Library, once again. He had chosen to come alone this time, telling Edmund that he needed time to think. He had found a nice couch by a corner of windows, and settled in with the book from yesterday.

In all truth, thinking was simply confusing for Peter. Every time he tried to reconcile his image of this new Edmund with the Edmund he had known for the past few years, his head started to ache. This new Edmund was so much like the old, Narnian Edmund that trying to match them to the 'bully-boy' Edmund was just too much.

Sighing, Peter pulled his eyes away from the same paragraph he'd been 'reading' for the last few hours.

Looking out the window, Peter noticed that winter had made its last stand in the midnight hours. Where once the ground had been cold and soggy, now there was a thick blanket of snow stretching over the moor. The bare tree limbs acted as shelves for millions of icicles of all shapes and sizes, and in the distance Peter could just make out the edge of a frozen pond. The sky was overcast making the scene beautiful, but cold.

Sighing once again, Peter rested his arm and chin over the arm of the couch. Spring was only a few weeks away, but to Peter it suddenly felt like a lifetime. The scenery was definitely not helping him with his train of thought.

Suddenly, Peter noticed movement coming from the right side of the clearing in front of him. As he watched, Edmund and Digory came ambling across the field. They seemed to be talking to each other, and just as they came to the center of the window, they stopped. From three stories up, Peter looked down upon the two men as Digory pointed across the field, Edmund following his directions with his eyes as he nodded along. Then Edmund took a few steps forward, and turned back to face Digory. He reached out a hand to the professor and, as they shook hands, a smile broke out across Edmund's face and the sun broke through the clouds.

Peter's breath caught in his chest as the sun lit up the scene before him, the rays reflecting off of Edmund's dark hair. The Just King seemed to glow in that moment, and Peter felt a sudden urge to join him on the moor. He just looked so…Narnian; so perfect in that moment. He felt his heart skip a beat as Edmund threw his head back and laughed at something Digory had said, the two men below the window sharing a moment of true friendship.

_Oh, Aslan. I want h—that._ He thought longingly. _Oh, Lord. How I want—him._

Peter pushed himself up from the couch arm to a sitting position, pressing his left hand over his stuttering heart. This was how he had felt the first moment he had realized he may be in love with Edmund. It had been moment very similar to this, Peter catching sight of a laughing Edmund and his heart jumping to his throat in nervous excitement. His breath quickened and he felt tongue tied. Peter had never been so glad to be alone in a library, before. He felt a flush rise to his cheeks as he imagined another person seeing him reacting so to something happening three stories below him.

Peter watched as Digory and Edmund bid each other farewell, and took off in different directions across the clearing; Edmund continuing on to the left, and Digory returning to the right. Peter's eyes stayed fixed on the Just King as he swiftly disappeared from the window's view. Peter found himself shifting forward to catch the last few glimpses of Edmund's retreating form, and then the brunette was gone, and the sun retreated once again behind the clouds.

Suddenly, Peter felt oddly alone. Sitting back, feeling something strangely like disappointment bloom in his breast, Peter shook his head and returned to his book.

That was enough thinking for one afternoon, thank you.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

Lunch had been a kind of 'fend for yourself' affair, but when the dinner bell rang, Peter found himself meeting Digory in the hall as they both made their way to the dining room.

"Hello, young Peter," Digory greeted jovially. Peter always appreciated how positive and caring the professor was. "And how was your day?"

"It was pleasant. I absolutely adore your library."

"Ah, yes. Was it for study or for pleasure, today?"

"Distraction, I'd have to say."

Digory smiled kindly at the blonde.

"Those can be very useful, in small doses," Digory opened the door to the dining room and ushered the younger man in before him. "If you ever have a specific book in mind, just let me know. And if you'd still like to study for entrance exams, you know where to find me."

Peter smiled. "Thank you, Digory."

Digory leaned in closer as he stopped at Peter's seat. "I'm also good for lending an ear, should you need one. I'll to my best to be absolutely unbiased...Well, as unbiased as an old man with too much advice can be."

The two shared a laugh as Digory moved on to his own place setting.

Edmund came breezing in just as the other two were settling in, and he sat across from Peter with a breathless smile and a nod to Digory.

"Find what you were looking for, young Pevensie?" Digory asked as they joined hands for grace.

"Oh, yes. It's perfect! Thank you for the help," Turning to Peter, Edmund's smile became almost blinding. "I have something for you, tomorrow. So, no questions right now!"

Peter raised an eyebrow, realizing that he had indeed been about to ask what the two were hiding. Edmund had even been quick enough to stop him from feeling left out.

"For me?" He asked as he took the professor's and Edmund's hands.

"Definitely for you."

And then it was time for grace, and dinner. Peter couldn't help but sit back and enjoy watching Edmund, cheeks flushed a rosy red from being outside, talk animatedly with their wonderful host and friend. If there was one thing that had never changed about Edmund, it was how handsome he really was. And Peter was just beginning to realize that he didn't just mean his looks.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

"Okay, I'm not going to let this be awkward," Edmund began as he rushed through changing and bounced right into bed. Though dinner had taken the better part of two hours, Edmund still seemed as if he had just rushed in from a jog outside. Peter watched him in astonishment.

_Where has all of this energy come from?_

"I'm sleeping here, you're sleeping here. I'm exhausted, and I absolutely want to cuddle you."

Peter just stared, halfway out of his day clothes and one arm in his nightshirt. His heart sped up again, as it had in the library, and he fought the blush that seemed to want to bloom across his cheeks _and_ his chest. Peter had _never_ felt this way about anyone else. It had been so long since he'd even had a crush on another person, even one on Edmund. Was this what it had felt like in Narnia?

"Well? Come on, my darling."

Yes. Yes, it was _exactly _like this.

Peter felt a little frightened, all of a sudden. These feelings of affection, love, and attraction were things he had tried to close his heart off to; the more Edmund had drifted from him. Yet, here they were, blooming inside of him and making his breath quicken and his heart flutter. He feared briefly for his heart's wellbeing.

But, he had never let fear best him. He changed into his night shirt, rushed through his own nightly routine (his skin hyper aware of the eyes following him across the room), and turned to climb into bed with his bouncing….with Edmund. He hadn't even fully settled before he was drawn into the brunette's arms and his cheeks, eyes, and forehead were covered in goodnight kisses.

"You smell like a barn."

Edmund froze, and then burrowed down under the covers with Peter wrapped in his arms.

"No questions!" he giggled. _Giggled!_

"But Edmund—"

"Goodnight, darling!" And Edmund clamped his eyes shut, tucking his head under Peter's chin and feigning sleep.

Peter rolled his eyes. He wouldn't be getting any more answers out of the useless lump beside him, tonight. He settled in.

"Goodnight, Edmund."

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

AN: OOOO! What is the surprise? Is Peter finally getting over his problems? Are _they_ getting over their problems? Is Peter still going to go to Uni? Is everything going to be resolved in a blaze of glory!

Well, you'll just have to keep reading to find out! Ha ha!

Also, for those who don't know what a "moor" is:

Def: a tract of unenclosed ground, usually having peaty soil covered with heather, coarse grass, bracken, and moss

Yes, there are a few trees, but it's mostly open land. I realized that when I mentioned "trees", you might have been envisioning an enclosed space surrounded by forest (well, you might be if you visualize stories like I do. ;) ) I imagine (for the needs of my story) that Digory has a FAIR amount of land. Is there a large section of forest on his land? Yes. But the manor grounds also encompass a great deal of open space.

I can't really think of the best way to describe it. When I lived in Scotland (and traveled through England), I remember seeing swatches of dense forest, followed by long stretches of moor. This is what I'm trying to convey for Digory's land.

Ok…tangent…I'm sure you get it! lol

Read and Review! :)

Preview:

"Is that-?"

"Yes! Well, no, it's not the original…but yes." Edmund grinned gleefully, squeezing the hand in his.

"Is that _really?"_

"Oh, yes!"

"MINE!"

"Yes, Yes!"

"AAHHHHH! –Oops!" Peter slapped a hand over his mouth to stop the excited yell.

And Edmund threw his head back and laughed.


	13. Trotting

Peter woke the next morning in a fickle mood. Though Edmund was once again at his side this morning, complete with a breakfast tray, Peter found himself feeling annoyed. First, Edmund ignores him for ages, then he suddenly shows interest in all things Peter, and _then_ he drags Peter all the way out to where it all began…only to start hiding things from him? And his _own emotions…_Peter had to fight not to roll his eyes.

He was done with emotional the roller coaster, thank you very much. He found that being unable to read Edmund put him on a constant edge, which even his little moments of joy from yesterday couldn't overshadow. Even as he had felt the stirrings of a crush, that paralyzing fear had whispered that it was all just an illusion. Edmund didn't really mean any of it.

Maybe Edmund was just trying to get his family back. He had alienated the girls, and even their parents could tell that Edmund seemed to be slipping back into bad habits. Though they disapproved of the bullies Edmund had started to run with, they had feared saying something lest Edmund revert to the rebellious young boy he had once been. It had probably helped Edmund's "cause" that he was still a kind and courteous son, regardless of the company he kept.

Maybe Edmund just wanted to clean up his name a little, and perhaps he thought getting back into Peter's good graces would be the way to do it. If _Peter_ liked him, again, than he could keep whatever secrets he wanted to without people nosing about his business.

At the thought, Peter felt sick. He pushed what was left of his breakfast away, no longer hungry.

Edmund, seemingly oblivious to Peter's train of thought, gathered up the rest of the breakfast. Pressing a kiss to Peter's temple, he took the tray up and headed for the door. He paused before passing through.

"Peter, would you meet me at the kitchen door after you've dressed?"

With a start, Peter realized that Edmund was already clothed for the day. In his brooding, he hadn't noticed Edmund's attire. Furrowing his brow, he nodded.

"Wear something…sturdy," And with that, Edmund was gone.

Peter sat in the silence for a few more minutes, trying to reign in his control, before climbing out of bed and heading for the wardrobe near the bathroom.

He wouldn't be taken advantage of, again. But, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and figure out just _what _Edmund was up to.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

Edmund met Peter at the door with a smile. He bounced on his heels as he ushered Peter out of the manor.

"Edmund," Peter began as their way down the back steps. "What are you keeping from me?"

"It's a surprise," Edmund smiled, glancing at Peter out of the corner of his eye.

Peter stopped, exasperated. "Look, Edmund. I've had enough surprises to last me a thousand lifetimes over. Just tell me what you're hiding."

Edmund turned and walked back to Peter. The smile he had been sporting dimmed a little in confusion.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

"Everything!" Peter sighed. "You ignore me. You coddle me. You comfort me. You keep secrets from me! Which is it, Edmund? Which one should I believe?"

"Peter, I'm not keeping secrets from you—"

"Then why won't you just tell me what you did yesterday? What you wouldn't let me ask about at dinner!"

"I'm trying to show you!" Edmund exclaimed, reaching for Peter's hand to pull him forward. Peter yanked his hand back.

"Oh, no. You don't get to do that right now. Remember the train platform? I tried to grab for you when Narnia started pulling us. You wouldn't even hold my hand. Why should I let /you/ touch /me/, now?"

"Peter." And Edmund gave up on speech, grabbing Peter's fingers with his and heading off across the lawn. Peter snarled, but let himself be pulled along, stomping all the way to show his discontent.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

They seemed to walk forever, before coming to the bottom of a hill. Edmund towed Peter up with him to the crest, and then turned Peter a little to the right.

"Look down there," He commanded, trying to keep his cool. This was for Peter, after all. "Tell me what you see."

Peter followed Edmund's instructions, and his eyes promptly widened.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked, grudgingly excited.

"A stable? Yes, it is. This is the 'secret' I've been keeping from you," Edmund sighed, letting his momentary frustration drain from his body. "Peter, I thought this would be something you would enjoy. When Digory told me yesterday that he'd started a stable, I couldn't wait to check it out.

You know much I loved Philip, and I know you adored spending your time in our stables at Cair. I wanted to find something that we could share again. I'm sorry you thought I was keeping something from you, and I'm _really_ sorry I've giving you reason to think I was up to no good. Can we just start this moment over?"

Peter studied Edmund's open face, nodding when he saw the truth in Edmund's eyes.

"I'm sorry I doubted you."

"There's no reason for you—"

"No, Edmund," Peter interjected. "If we're really going to do this, we both need to own up for our wrongs. I'm sorry I suspected you of a wrong-doing. I shouldn't have thrown that temper tantrum back there."

Edmund considered Peter for a moment. "I'm sorry I didn't take your hand at the train station."

"You were mad at me. I'd just brought you into a fight not moments before."

"It doesn't excuse my reluctance."

"Hmm."

"Come on, love. Let's go see some horses."

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

The air was crisp, the snow crunching under their shoes as the two kings made their way to the paddock closest to the hill. There were a few horses out, and Edmund and Peter stopped to greet the few that came up to the fence. Edmund watched from the corner of his eye are Peter smiled and spoke softly to the large animals.

"Peter, I have something for you," He smiled as Peter turned enquiring eyes his way. "I've picked a mount for you. I think you'll like him."

"A mount?"

"That was what Digory and I were hiding, yesterday. Being a king of Narnia, he saw the need for you to have at least one mount. I asked him if I could choose a horse for you. He said I could choose for both of us. As you can see, he has plenty to choose from. He's becoming a regular breeder!"

"That was very kind of him…But we aren't in Narnia anymore, Edmund."

"Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia."

He took Peter's hand is his, once again, and led him through the stable. They stopped to speak to a few stable hands and whinnying ponies, before making their way out the other side of the Stable.

"He may remind you of another horse." Edmund winked as they passed by the large, open doors.

There was another paddock behind the stable, and inside the ring of fence stood a great white stallion. His shoulders were broad, his neck thick and proud. The breath from his great nose puffed out in clouds in the cold air. As they approached, the Stallion turned towards them, his ears flicking their way in interest.

Peter froze. Edmund stopped his steps to stand by his side. Peter stared at the albino (for there is really no such thing as a truly "white" horse) in awe, unconsciously squeezing Edmund's hand in his.

"Is that-?"

"Yes! Well, no, it's not your original Narnian one, though he does look just like your Narnian mount…but yes." Edmund grinned gleefully, returning the squeezing of the hand in his.

"Is that _really?"_

"Oh, yes!"

"MINE!"

"Yes, Yes!"

"AAHHHHH! –Oops!" Peter slapped a hand over his mouth to stop the excited yell.

And Edmund threw his head back and laughed. He looked around to make sure they hadn't startled too many horses, before pulling Peter towards the fence. The stallion turned to them, and trotted over. He blew a bit before Edmund reached into his pocket and pulled out some grain. The stallion sniffed before flapping his soft lips over Edmund's palm, gobbling the grain and snorting in horse-joy. He bobbed his head as he munched on the grain. Edmund handed a bit of grain to Peter.

"He's fully broken, though not very old. Maybe five years old. An An—"

"Andalusian," Peter laughed softly as the horse sniffed around his fingers before lipping up the grain. He scratched under the stallion's jaw as the horse munched away, leaning his large head heavier on the scratching hand. "He's gorgeous Ed."

Edmund practically beamed with pride. He'd gotten Peter to call him "Ed", and the blonde liked his choice.

"Not that there was any doubt. Philip taught you well how to choose the right mount for the right person," Peter continued, unaware that he was voicing Edmund's thoughts. He was thoroughly engaged in entertaining the handsome stallion before him, who seemed to be convinced he had more grain up his sleeve. When the horse found no more grain, he moved forward and turned his large neck into Peter's hand; looking for a free and thorough ear scratch. Peter laughed, softly, and obliged the beast. The grey bobbed his head up and down to assist in the process.

"I'm glad you like him. He seems to like you," Edmund murmured, rubbing his free hand over the one of Peter's he was already holding, trying to coax some warmth into the digits intertwined with his. "You can ride him today, if you'd like. I pulled out the tack for him, just in case."

Peter turned shining eyes to Edmund. "You really think of everything when you put your mind to it, don't you?"

Edmund just smiled.

"You'd ride with me, wouldn't you?"

"Well, I hadn't really chosen a horse for myself yet, but—"

"Ed! You really must have been focusing on finding me a mount if you haven't chosen one for yourself, yet!" Peter turned to give the stallion one last pat, before turning to drag Edmund back to the stables. The Stallion whinnied after him, and Peter turned back for a second. "I'll be right back, handsome. I have to find the Just King a horse!"

Edmund laughed all the way to the stable

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

Finding a horse for Edmund proved to be a very easy task. As they passed between stalls, a handsome bay gelding stuck his nose out of his stall and whinnied right in Edmund's ear. After rubbing the abused opening, Edmund turned to find himself face to face with an intense stare. He tried to walk on, but the horse turned his head after him and whinnied again. Peter snorted next to him.

"Well, Ed. I don't think we need to choose a horse for you. It seems this one's chosen you as his person, instead. Think he's related to Philip?"

"Yeah," Edmund muttered back, wryly. "Thank goodness he can't talk my ear off after whinnying it into deafness. Praise Aslan for small favors."

The horse snorted loudly in response to being 'ignored', and Peter burst into smothered laughter. He didn't even realize he was burying his mouth against Edmund's shoulder. Suddenly, Edmund was _very_ thankful for pushy horses.

They grabbed their tack, Peter caught the stallion, and then then they were brushing and saddling their chosen mounts for a nice ride across the grounds. Peter talked easily to the stallion as he brushed his soft winter coat. Edmund was pleased that his talents for matching horse and rider had not diminished in his time away from the noble beasts. He casually caught glimpses of Peter as the blonde worked his way around, even combing out the mane and tail of the Andalusian before placing the blanket and saddle. Calm settled over the High King, and it was just as Edmund had hoped it'd be.

He paid the same attention to his own mount, muttering to the horse about his blonde love and receiving knickers in return. He found that the bay really did remind him of his talking friend, _and_ that he really missed Philip and his commentary…and his advice. Though they were few and far between, Edmund and Peter _had_ had their disagreements in Narnia just like any other married couple. Edmund had found a true confidant and advisor in his beloved Philip.

Sometimes his advice would make Edmund laugh and see the lighter side of things (He still remembered Philip's anniversary suggestion: "Bring him oats! Oats make the _perfect _gift! ...And bring me some oats, while you're at it."), and sometimes it had been just what he needed to hear. ("Sometimes you just have to let a person run out of steam. The best thing you can do for a mad stallion is just set him out in the pasture, and let him run himself out. The High King will wear out, sooner or later. And then, you can talk to him.)

Shaking himself from his thoughts and checking the girth a final time, Edmund turned to see Peter standing by the stallion, bridle in place and reigns in hand. He switched out the halter on his own mount for the bridle, and the two kings headed out for a ride.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

When evening came, the kings returned to cool down their horses, brush them down, feed them and turn them in for the night. The ride had been freeing for both young kings. Peter found some of his peace, and Edmund found some of his joy and confidence. They talked about inconsequential things, and came up with the most absurd names for the creatures they passed on their ride. They chased each other across the moor, and trotted through the trees. Neither king could deny that they saw glimpses of the Narnian in each other. Watching the other on a horse reminded them of riding through streets, through battles, through festivals together.

Laughter came more easily to Peter, and Edmund got the chance to revel in his husband's presence without worrying that Peter was seconds away from another emotional shift. Peter had been so stable before Edmund's retreat, and Edmund was almost desperate to get that stability back.

"Thank you, Ed. For today," Peter murmured as they made their way back to the manor. "I needed that."

"You're more than welcome, my darling," Edmund returned, climbing the steps up to the manor and holding the door open for the blonde to pass through. "You can go out there anytime you'd like."

"I'd like that," Peter paused in the door to look back at Edmund. "I'd like you to go with me again, as well."

Edmund smiled.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

"Today was a good day," Peter stated as he moved around their suite, working through his nightly routine.

"It was," Edmund responded from his place at the desk. They had retired early to their rooms in order to share some quiet time, together. Peter moved the book from the Library to their bedroom, and had spent the better part of a few hours reading contentedly in a chair before the fire. Edmund had commandeered the desk to continue whatever work he had be pouring over just days before.

"What are you writing?" Peter asked curiously, trying to refrain from crossing the room to peer over Ed's shoulder. Edmund turned to glance at him as he closed what Peter could now see looked like a journal.

"Something for you."

"Another surprise?"

"Only if you're willing to wait for it," Edmund responded as he rose and popped his back.

"If it's as nice as the one today, I think I'll wait."

"Are you sure?" Edmund teased gently.

"Oh, very much so."

Edmund, for the millionth time that day, found himself smiling at Peter and his actions.

"Thank you, Peter. I promise you'll love it."

Peter curled into bed. "Let tomorrow be a good day."

"Tomorrow will be a great day. And the day after that…and all the days to come."

"Let's just start with tomorrow."

And sleep claimed Peter before Edmund had even dimmed the lights.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

AN: I'm thinking there might be a skip in the next few weeks. We'll see. I've been going day by day because I felt these first steps were crucial to their relationship. There's still some heavy stuff to come, but it might be a gradual build to the big blowouts. Rome wasn't built in a day, people, and relationships take time. ;)

ANYWAY! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I look forward to them, every time I post a new chapter. :)

So keep on reading and reviewing. :)

Preview:

"Is this true? Is this really how you feel? Is this the truth of what's you've done? What you've seen?"

"Every word, Peter. Every word in that journal is every truth I could ever give you."

"_Why?_"

"Because you needed to know."

"No, _why did you give this to me?_" Tears escaped from the corners of Peter's eyes to trail down his cheeks. They were joined steadily by a river of silent tears that broke over his lower lids. His lips trembled. "_Why tell me these things, now? Why not __before?_"


	14. AN AGAIN! Hopefully the last for a while

Author's Note... Again:

Ok. Here is the deal. I'm posting this on all of my stories, as I've had a few PMs/Reviews with the same themes. So, if you're following more than one of my stories, you don't need to check every single one. I've decided to address these PMs/Reviews, all in one fell swoop.

Here are the reasons I've not updated in the last year:

After I posted the last AN, I was promptly whisked off to fill a rather coveted spot on a Masters program in the UK. Yes, I _had_ planned on updating shortly after my AN, but life got ahold of me before I could do so. Heads of Courses have a tendency of doing that.

2. This was an intensive one-year program. I was in from dawn till dusk, all year, and that doesn't count the hours I put in _outside_ of class. After dealing with all kinds of literature day and night, I didn't even want to _look _ at a computer, let alone write.

I've moved countries, twice. Across oceans. Sometimes, people just want to sleep for a week.

I had a _death_ in the family. It was unexpected, and it wasn't pretty. Cancer never is.

And lastly:

I've received a few rather abusive PMs/Reviews about what a horrible person I am that I've put my writing on hiatus to deal with my real life. Abusing me over the internet does _not_ encourage me to continue writing.

I apologize to those of you who've waited patiently for an update on whichever story/ies of mine that you happen to follow. I appreciate the nicer, kinder reviews/PMs that have noted the enjoyment of the stories, and the looking forward to a new chapter. I DO plan to update them. I enjoy every one of my stories, and I do like writing when the mood strikes. I wrote _"Nate's Darling" _ after watching Leverage non-stop for a weekend as a MASSIVE form of stress release. I didn't watch the show with thoughts of a story. I just needed to get away from the Masters for a few hours before I went nuts. And also to avoid someone who was_ driving_ me nuts. TV on? Don't talk. Great avoidance technique. Thankfully, I no longer live with that person.

I can't say when I'll update, as any plans I make to update usually get shot out of the sky by real life.

On a lighter note, I've finished the Masters, and have a bit of spare time at the moment. I _may update_, soon. I do not, and never have, promised anything but a story. Not when, not how.

Here is how I see these stories getting updated:

"_In the Dark..."_ and "_To the Edge..."_ are at the top of my list, as I'm not happy where they're sitting, right now.

"_Nate's Darling" _comes in a close 3rd, as I know what the next few chapters will be, anyway. This might end up being No. 1, as I already have a chapter half finished.

"_I will Always..." _and "_Redemption:..." _will have to wait until I've nailed an update to the top three.

"_Gai gets the Guy" _will stay on hiatus until I find the time and will to update. Again, I don't know when that will be.

I'm sorry if you are one of my loyal readers who just happened to be caught in this. I do love my kind reviewers. I even look forward to them, and do my best to reply to each one personally.

If you're planning on ranting at me about how I haven't updated fast enough, save it. What did you do for New Years? Bury a family member? I didn't think so.

(Disclaimer: If anyone had to join me in that last one, you have my condolences. I can honestly say I know how awful it is. I've buried three family members so far over the Holiday season. It sucks.)

So, keep your eyes peeled, and someday you will see an actual update.

Dragonkittin


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